Finding Arun (23 page)

‘HELLO Chandni.’

‘Arun, I … hello. What are you doing here? Has
something happened?’

‘No, no, I um … I came to see if you were all
right?’

Chandni looked at him, at once confused.

‘I’m fine … why wouldn’t I be?’

Arun instantly felt foolish for his undue concern;
Chandni was clearly fine. He stood outside her house feeling
exposed and all too aware that things were not playing out quite
how he had imagined they would.

‘Do you mind if I come in? I’m being bitten to death
by mosquitoes out here,’ he lied, desperate to gloss over his
awkward arrival and to keep things on track.

Chandni’s eyes widened in alarm at the suggestion
and she looked around nervously unable to meet Arun’s gaze. She
seemed to be wrestling with something in her mind, searching for an
excuse to deny his request and he felt momentarily wounded at the
prospect that she might not want to see him. However, a few moments
later, she stepped back and held the door open, motioning for him
to enter the house.

Inside, it was not dissimilar to Mata-ji’s house,
though it extended much further back and there was a door beside
the kitchen that opened onto the side of the building. Arun made
himself comfortable in the small seating area, whilst Chandni
dutifully fetched him a cup of water, ever the perfect host.

‘Thanks,’ he said, accepting the small cup
gratefully and gulping down a few sips. The cool water was
refreshing after his walk in the unbearably thick heat of the night
and it provided lubrication for his throat, which kept drying out
with nerves.

‘Sorry to come over unannounced, it’s just that you
haven’t been at the mandir for a few days. And I haven’t seen you
at the shop either … somebody told me that you were sick?’

‘I’m not sick,’ Chandni replied quickly, without any
hesitation.

‘Oh … well how come you haven’t been coming to the
mandir then?’

Chandni looked nervously at the floor, wringing her
hands in her lap as she sat stiffly beside him, but she didn’t
answer the question.

‘It’s okay, you can tell me,’ he insisted gently,
setting down the cup so that he could give her his full
attention.

‘It’s nothing, really, I’ll be back at the mandir
tomorrow,’ she answered, gazing innocently up at him with the
shining green eyes that he so adored.

Yet Arun wasn’t convinced. For Chandni to miss
prayers at the mandir there must be a significant reason and as she
peered up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the lights in the
house, he was overcome with a desire to help her, whatever the
problem might be. He didn’t know where such strong feelings had
come from, especially when he barely knew Chandni, but he wanted to
be her confidant and to support her, if she would let him.

‘I won’t tell anyone, I promise,’ he offered
reassuringly.

‘Really, it’s nothing, Arun.’

‘You can trust me, Chandni.’

‘I do trust you, Arun.’

‘Then tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.’

‘You can’t help,’ said Chandni chuckling softly, a
beautiful smile stealing across her face in the way that made
Arun’s heart skip a beat.

‘I can try.’

‘Can you change biology?’

‘Huh?’

Chandni broke off her gaze and looked shyly at the
floor again, unable to meet Arun’s confused eyes when she
answered.

‘It is a certain time in the month … women are not
allowed into the mandir during this time,’ she whispered.

Arun’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment and,
rooted to the spot with mortification, he could do nothing but
avert his gaze away from Chandni. How had he gotten so worked up,
so obsessed with being her knight in shining armour and the
solution to all her problems, that he hadn’t considered that her
absence could be down to something so simple?

‘I … I … sorry,’ he stammered, his throat drying up
again, leaving him unsure what else to say in response to her
admission.

‘It’s okay. It’s nice to know that someone cared
enough to check up on me,’ she replied smiling sweetly, though she
was equally embarrassed.

‘Can I … can I get another drink of water please?’
he asked, trying to distract them both by changing the subject.

Chandni reached over his lap to grab the cup and her
proximity made Arun’s whole body tingle. He watched her walk to the
kitchen and fill his cup once more, mesmerised by the womanly
curves that were accentuated by the tight-fitting lemon Punjabi
suit that she wore. Returning, she set the cup down in front of him
and settled herself back against the cushions, leaving Arun
battling a growing urge to reach forward and kiss her pretty pink
lips. She was so feminine, so innocent and sweet, and so unlike any
other girl that he had ever met, but it wasn’t until that exact
moment that he realised just how much he had missed seeing her
beautiful face.

‘So, how come you are not at the mandir tonight?’
queried Chandni, playfully.

‘I told you, I wanted to make sure that you were all
right,’ he answered, feeling his cheeks flame once more.

‘So Lucky dropped you off on the way?’

‘No, not exactly …’

‘Not exactly?’

‘I walked.’

‘You walked? Why didn’t Lucky drop you?’

‘Because, I sort of told him that I wasn’t feeling
well and that I wanted to stay at home,’ Arun admitted shyly.

The words brought another smile to Chandni’s face
and Arun felt his heart soar; she
was
pleased to see him. They continued to smile at each other,
their eyes conducting a conversation for which no words were
necessary, until, encouraged by the warmth in her expression, Arun
found the confidence to ask the question that had been weighing on
his mind since his arrival at the house.

‘Chandni?’

‘Yes?’

‘I know this might seem a little … strange, but I
was wondering if you –’

‘What’s that noise?’ she interrupted, abruptly
jumping to her feet with a sheer look of panic on her face.

Arun listened for what had startled her, but he
could hear nothing except the faint ticking over of an engine.

‘It’s just someone passing by. No need to
panic.’

But no sooner had the words left his mouth than he
heard first the sound of Lucky’s voice, and then the sound of
Rajubhai Joshi’s, as they shouted at each other over the noise from
the rickshaw.

‘You have to leave,’ Chandni whispered desperately,
grasping Arun’s hands and pulling him to his feet.

Arun didn’t want Lucky to discover him there, but he
couldn’t understand why Chandni was so anxious.

‘You don’t have to worry about Lucky, it’s your
house; he’d expect you to be here,’ he protested, laughing.

Unamused, Chandni clamped her soft hands over his
mouth, instantly silencing him. Her face was stern and serious
whilst she deftly swiped Arun’s cup from the floor with one hand
and, depositing it in the kitchen as she passed by, forced Arun out
of the side door with the other.

‘Lucky is nothing compared to what my Bapu-ji will
do to us both if he finds you here,’ she whispered.

Arun was about to respond with a quick quip, but he
had just enough time to glimpse Rajubhai Joshi and Lucky when they
burst animatedly through the front door, before Chandni had forced
the side door shut, leaving him out in the heat of the night once
more.

His clothes instantly dampened with sweat, clinging
to him like a second skin, but as he strained to hear the muffled
sound of Lucky and Rajubhai Joshi’s conversation, a different kind
of heat began to overwhelm him. It was a heat that originated deep
inside of him; a fire, a passion and an insatiable desire for
Chandni. His heart thumped furiously in his chest from the
exhilaration of almost being caught, but he had seen her and she
was beautiful, and now he knew that he wanted more. He stood rooted
to the spot, staring at the place where she had been, daydreaming
while he replayed their conversation in his mind. She had been so
shy, so sweet, so humbled by his visit that he was smiling goofily
to himself, knowing that there was no-one around to see him in the
darkness.

His reverie was soon interrupted by the sound of
Lucky’s rickshaw engine sputtering to life once more. He crept
along the wall to peer round at the front of the house just in time
to see Lucky disappear into the night, and the realisation that he
wouldn't reach home before his brother promptly brought Arun back
to reality. He started to run, faster than he ever had before, the
sticky heat causing him to sweat so much that his clothes became
drenched in the salty, smelly liquid. He pounded the dirt road,
focused only on getting home as quickly as possible and on
concocting a plausible explanation as to why he had left.

When he reached his front door, sticky and
breathless from his exertions, he was surprised to find the house
still shrouded in darkness and none of the internal lamps lit.
Lucky’s rickshaw was not parked outside and for a split second,
Arun breathed a sigh of relief, believing that he had gotten away
with his secret jaunt. He pushed the door open and when his eyes
had adjusted to the blackness of the house, they were instantly
drawn to the outline of the figure that lay sobbing in a crumpled
heap on the cushions. He felt along the wall until he found the
light switch and on illuminating the room, he was shocked by what
he found.

‘Hanara?’

‘Arun!’ she cried out, sniffling loudly when she
lifted her head from her arms.

Her face was damp and tear-stained, her eyes puffy,
darkened by the smudges of kohl that now streaked across them. She
wrestled with the folds of her sari and, after struggling to her
feet, in two quick paces she was by Arun’s side, flinging her arms
around his waist and pulling him towards her in a tight embrace.
She buried her face in his chest and squeezed him tighter, sobbing
harder and harder, until her tears had intermingled with his sweat
and he could no longer tell which was causing his T-shirt to stick
to him. Reaching around her small frame, Arun encircled his sister
in his arms, trying to calm her as she shook from the force of her
sobs.

‘Hanara, what’s the matter? What’s happened?’

He swallowed anxiously, his mind immediately turning
to thoughts of Lucky, wondering why he was not yet home and how
Hanara herself had got there. Hanara pulled away from Arun’s chest
and looked up at him through tear-filled hazel eyes.

‘It … was … I … was …’ she stuttered between
sobs.

‘Is it Lucky? Where is he?’

‘I thought that … you were … gone … leaving us …
without … saying … goodbye.’

Arun felt relief wash over him.

‘Oh Hanara, no,’ he said soothingly, ‘I would never
leave without saying goodbye. How could you think that?’

‘I … came back … to check on you … and you … are …
gone. I didn’t know what … what to think,’ she blubbered.

The thought of secretly leaving had never entered
Arun’s mind, in fact he was trying to find an excuse to stay
longer, but he still felt a tremendous pang of guilt for causing
his sister so much distress. He stroked Hanara’s hair
apologetically until her sobs subsided, and eventually she released
him from her grip, drawing the backs of her hands across her face
to wipe away the tears.

‘I’m sorry, Hanara. I didn’t mean to worry you.’

‘Where were you?’ she sniffed loudly, regaining her
composure at last.

She peered up at him expectantly, but Arun stood
mute, undecided as to the answer that he should give. If he told
her the truth, would she be mad at him for lying and sneaking off,
or would she understand? It was difficult to discern from the look
on Hanara’s face, but Arun reasoned that she was likely to be so
relieved that he hadn’t run off, that any explanation would be
preferable and acceptable at that particular moment. He had already
lied once that day and been caught out; was it really worth
perpetuating the lie further? He knew how much Lucky and Hanara
valued truthfulness and he didn’t want to disappoint them. Besides,
little lies had already done so much to destroy their small
family.

‘I went for a walk … to see someone,’ he started,
sitting down amongst the cushions and unsuccessfully trying to read
Hanara’s curious facial expression.

‘Who?’

‘Chandni.’

‘Chandni? Why?’

‘To see if she was okay. You know, because you said
she’s been sick.’

‘Oh,’ said Hanara, looking utterly stunned while she
contemplated Arun’s admission, ‘but if you were not feeling well,
then why were you going to see another person who is also sick?
It’s not good to share all the germs.’

‘I’m not sick,’ Arun smiled, chuckling at her
naïvety.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I pretended to be sick, so that I could stay home
from the mandir and go and see her. I’m sorry that I lied.’

‘I still don’t understand,’ she complained, her brow
furrowing from the inability to make sense of Arun’s explanation.
‘If you wanted to go and see her only, why didn’t you ask Lucky to
take you?’

‘Because … I wanted to see her … by myself.’

Hanara seemed so taken aback by this last admission
that she finally sat down beside Arun on the cushions.

‘
Do you … do you
like
Chandni?’

Arun nodded his head silently, feeling too exposed
and embarrassed to speak.

‘Really?’ she breathed, staring at him in
disbelief.

‘Yes, really … why not?’

‘Well, it’s just that, and don’t take this the wrong
way, but when my other friends ask after you and try to get your
attention, you never seem interested. I thought that maybe you
preferred white girls only. You know, since you have come from
London.’

Arun laughed out loud; here was another thought that
had never entered his mind.