Authors: Marisha Pink
Tags: #fiction, #spiritual, #journey, #india, #soul, #past, #culture, #spiritual inspirational, #aaron, #contemporary fiction, #loneliness, #selfdiscovery, #general fiction, #comingofage, #belonging, #indian culture, #hindu culture, #journey of self, #hindi, #comingofagewithatwist, #comingofagenovel, #comingofagestory, #journey of life, #secrets and lies, #soul awareness, #journey into self, #orissa, #konark, #journey of discovery, #secrets exposed, #comingofrace, #culture and customs, #soul awakening, #past issues, #past and future, #culture and societies, #aaron rutherford, #arun, #marisha pink, #odisha, #puri
An awkward silence followed and Arun swallowed the
lump in his throat, realising that the conversation wasn’t going to
be a straightforward one.
‘How was that rash thing?’ Arthur continued.
‘It’s Rath Yatra, Arthur.’
‘That’s the one; you knew what I meant. How was
it?’
‘It was great. A little long, but definitely an
amazing festival to have watched. The chariots were enormous and
there was singing, and dancing, and music. And so many people and
pilgrims, all helping to pull the chariots along.’
‘I see. And did you get to see this juggernaut thing
that you stayed for?’
‘Jagannath,’ Arun corrected again with a sigh, ‘and
no, not really.’
‘Well what was the point then?’
‘I saw bits of him, but there were just so many
people wrestling to carry him from the mandir to the chariot that
it was difficult to see much. And we were quite high up.’
‘Right then,’ concluded Arthur disapprovingly.
Another brief silence followed, all obvious topics
of conversation exhausted and Arun twirled the telephone cord
nervously around his fingers, desperately searching for the right
words to break the news that he was not yet ready to come home. He
didn't know how to begin but, eventually, Arthur unknowingly forced
his tongue.
‘What time is your flight leaving tomorrow?’
‘Um, it’s supposed to be at six o’clock.’
‘Supposed to be? Don’t you think you ought to check?
You don’t want to miss it.’
‘Well actually, Arthur, the thing is … I’m thinking
of staying on a bit longer.’
There was silence at the other end of the phone,
save for the sound of a single, heavy sigh, and Arun felt the
tension reach through the receiver and strangle him with the
cord.
‘Meaning?’ Arthur answered finally, a false calm
evident in his voice.
‘Meaning, I’d like to stay in India a little
longer.’
‘Why?’ fired Arthur, accusingly.
‘Because, I’m enjoying myself out here. I’m enjoying
spending time with Hanara and Lucky, getting to know them better,
and getting to learn about my culture, and –’
‘
Your culture?
’ Arthur interrupted, unable to disguise
the contempt in his voice.
Arun ignored the jibe and continued, feeling
strangely more empowered the more irate and irrational Arthur
became.
‘There is so much that I never knew about India; all
the customs and traditions, they’re so fascinating and so different
to what I’m used to at home. I guess being here and being around my
family has made me look at things differently. I just want to make
the most of that while I can.’
‘
Your family?
Your family?
Aaron, they are not
your family
, you barely know them,’ Arthur cried bitterly, the
jealousy evident in his angst.
‘
Yes they are, Arthur. They
are
my family, and it’s not my fault that I barely
know them.’
‘Fine. Then why can’t you just come home, call them,
write to them, and maybe visit once a year like normal people do
with their relatives? Enough is enough, Aaron. You need to come
home and start preparing for university – Oxford is no joke.’
‘Which is precisely why I want to stay now, while I
have the time. When I start at Oxford it’s going to be so difficult
for me to get back out here often.’
Another silence followed, during which the old man
seemed to be searching for an alternative argument, but Arun
remained mute, resolute in his decision to stay.
‘Well, you can’t move your flights again, you were
only allowed one amendment. So how exactly do you propose to get
yourself home, Einstein?’
‘I’ll have to buy a new flight, I guess.’
‘I’m not paying for it,’ spat Arthur petulantly.
‘That’s okay, I wasn’t expecting you to. I have a
little money left in my savings, enough to buy a new flight with a
little bit to spare.’
‘Fine.’
Arun listened patiently, waiting for Arthur to try
his next line of attack, but when none came he realised
triumphantly that not only had he stood his ground, he had won the
battle.
‘I’ve got to go now, Arthur. I’ll let you know my
plans as soon as I can.’
‘Fine.’
‘Bye. Oh, and say hi to Aunt Ruby for me,’ he added,
but Arthur had already rung off.
Arun replaced the receiver and sat on the edge of
the bed, his head hung low between his knees, whilst he ran his
fingers through his hair in an attempt to unwind from the stress of
the call. He was replaying the conversation in his mind when the
sound of the balcony door closing broke his chain of thought. He
spun around to see Hanara standing sheepishly in the corner of the
room and realised, to his horror, that she had been there for some
time. One look at her face was enough for him to know that she had
overheard every word of his conversation, but there was a look of
understanding and empathy in her eyes that instantly soothed
him.
‘Parents can be stubborn sometimes, isn’t it?’ she
whispered with a smile.
‘Yes, they can.’
‘So can children,’ she added.
‘Do you think I’m being stubborn?’
‘Of course you are being stubborn, but don’t worry …
it’s a family trait.’
THE week following Rath Yatra passed by in much the
same way that the weeks before had. Fresh from the excitement of
staying at the Mayfair Beach Resort Hotel, Hanara and Lucky had
resumed their daily rituals with new rigour and Arun had continued
to earn his keep by looking after the shop. The people of the
village were now well acquainted with him and normal levels of
business had resumed, yet without the constant stream of curious
customers, the days seemed to slip by painfully slowly while he
counted down to his first proper meeting with Chandni. The quiet
days afforded him hours to plot and scheme and daydream about how
their date might unfold, and when he had exhausted all
possibilities, his mind turned to thoughts of what their future
might hold too.
Lucky had practically fallen over himself to help
drive them into Puri and each evening he was full of ever more
imaginative suggestions as to where Arun could take his date. After
a few days, Arun decided not to go to Puri at all, settling instead
on a visit to Chilika Lake, a stunning lagoon a few hours past Puri
where a rare breed of dolphin could be spotted. Lucky insisted that
it would impress Chandni and, wanting to surprise her, Arun decided
to keep their true destination a secret. Hanara had played her part
too, agreeing to provide their cover by closing the shop for the
day and accompanying them as far as Puri, allowing Chandni to tell
Rajubhai Joshi that the two of them planned to shop for new sari
blouses. It was the perfect plan; they would be far enough away
from the village to remain unseen and with Hanara gone too, nobody
would suspect a thing.
By the time Saturday finally arrived, Arun could
hardly contain himself, and as if on cue his eyes blinked awake
shortly after five o’clock when the sun was beginning to rise. He
nudged his brother gently to rouse him from sleep and though Lucky
merely groaned loudly and rolled away from him, it was enough to
know that he was awake too. They quickly dressed themselves and
made their way to the main room of the house, where Hanara was
already laying out breakfast on the floor. Arun had no idea how she
managed it, but his sister was always one step ahead of them and he
loved her all the more for it. They completed the morning prayers
together and, after rushing through a light breakfast of masala
dosa and chai, Hanara closed up the house and they made their way
to Chandni’s place.
Arun felt his nerves grow exponentially when they
approached Chandni’s house and he could no longer tell whether his
palms were sweaty from the escalating morning heat or out of pure
fear that Rajubhai Joshi would somehow rumble his carefully
orchestrated plans. He waited quietly in the rickshaw with Lucky,
whilst Hanara went to the door to call for Chandni in case her
father had not yet left for the mandir, but a few moments later she
appeared alone in the doorway, dressed in a beautiful canary-yellow
Punjabi suit that instantly made Arun forget his worries.
‘Good morning, Arun,’ Chandni smiled sweetly,
clambering into the rickshaw beside him.
‘Hi, Chandni. You look … beautiful this
morning.’
Chandni blushed, seemingly overwhelmed by the kind
compliment and all too aware of Hanara and Lucky’s presence.
‘Thank you, Arun; that’s very sweet of you to say.
How are you?’
‘I’m great thanks; really looking forward to today.
How are you?’
‘Oh, I’m okay; also looking forward to the day. I
haven’t been to Puri in a long time, it will be nice to see the
city again.’
Lucky turned in his seat to exchange a
conspiratorial look with Arun, but seeing the alarmed look on his
brother’s face, he quickly changed tact.
‘Good morning to you, Miss Chandni.’
‘Good morning, Lucky,’ she smiled, reaching forward
to gently pat his arm. ‘Thank you so much for driving us today,
it’s very kind of you.’
‘It is really no trouble at all; anything to help my
dear brother,’ he answered brightly, turning to start up the engine
once more.
‘Did your father suspect anything?’ Arun asked
anxiously, once he was sure that Lucky and Hanara were too
engrossed in their own conversation to eavesdrop on his own.
‘No, not at all. I just saw him only as he was
leaving for the mandir. He even gave me some money for the sari
blouses … to tell you the truth it made me feel quite guilty,’ she
answered, settling back against the seat and staring at the floor
of the rickshaw regretfully.
Arun couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling bad
and, taking her hands in his own, he did his best to reassure
her.
‘Don’t feel guilty, Chandni. We’re not doing
anything wrong, not really. We’re just enjoying a day out together
and what Rajubhai Joshi doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I promise that
I’ll get you home safely.’
‘I know that you will,’ she said, half-smiling and
half-sighing, ‘perhaps I’ll buy him a gift whilst we’re there, just
something small. We’ll have time to go to the market won’t we?’
‘Actually, Chandni, we’re not going to Puri.’
‘We’re not? Why?’
‘Well, we are, briefly, but I’ve thought of
somewhere else that we can go. Somewhere that’s a little bit more
exciting,’ he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Chandni looked at him quizzically, her eyebrows
knotted together entirely perplexed by Arun’s admission, and for a
moment he thought that she might be angry with him for keeping
their destination from her.
‘Please don’t be mad at me, Chandni. It was supposed
to be a surprise.’
‘I’m not mad, Arun, I’m … well, surprised. Nobody
has ever given so much thought to anything for me like this before.
It’s … well, it’s really very sweet.’
Relieved, they both shared a smile and though he
could only see the backs of their heads, he was sure that Lucky and
Hanara had overheard their exchange and were smiling too.
When they reached Puri, Hanara abandoned them,
preferring to spend her day pottering about the city and trying on
saris that she couldn’t afford, in lieu of spying on Arun and
Chandni with Lucky. They tried to persuade her to change her mind –
Lucky because he desperately desired someone to gossip with and
Arun because he was concerned what mischief Lucky might get into if
left to his own devices for the day – but as she correctly pointed
out, someone had to purchase the sari blouses for Chandni to show
Rajubhai Joshi when she returned home. They arranged a spot at
which to meet later in the day, and only after Chandni had
described in great detail the exact sari blouse colour that she
wanted, were they able to wave Hanara off into the depths of Puri’s
crowds.
Whilst Lucky concentrated on navigating his way to
Chilika Lake, Arun and Chandni engaged in a playful and
light-hearted conversation, Chandni gently mocking the ongoing
touristic wonderment with which Arun was recounting his experience
of Rath Yatra. Despite the jibes, it was a simple pleasure to
behold Chandni laughing and smiling, and as the passing wind
whipped her long hair out like a stream of coffee being poured from
on high, Arun was taken by her beauty all over again. The Indian
countryside rolled by in a blur of greens and browns, and they were
so lost in their conversation that the two-hour journey seemed to
pass by in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, Lucky had
pulled his rickshaw to a standstill and just beyond the small jetty
they were all treated to the awe-inspiring blue beauty of Chilika
Lake.
‘Oh my,’ exclaimed Chandni, suddenly breaking off
the conversation that she and Arun had been enjoying.
‘Welcome to Chilika Lake, Chandni,’ he whispered,
feeling suitably smug at her reaction.
‘Arun, it’s beautiful.’
He helped her down from the rickshaw and they stood
in silence, Chandni still clutching Arun’s forearm while she stared
out across the still water in awe. They stayed that way for some
time, Chandni watching the water and Arun watching Chandni, until
the serenity of the moment was broken by the faint sound of a low
grumble originating from Chandni’s stomach.
‘Oh, excuse me,’ she gasped, clasping her hands over
her mouth with an embarrassed giggle.
‘Hungry?’ asked Arun, grinning boyishly.
Chandni nodded her head and needing no further
encouragement, Arun took her by the elbow and guided her a few
paces past the jetty to a small ramshackle restaurant for an early
lunch. Not wishing to obstruct the course of true love, Lucky hung
back and, propping his feet up inside the rickshaw, promptly dozed
off, tired from the early start and concentration during the long
drive.