Finding Arun (30 page)

‘I know it will. Come on, let’s get you home.’

Chandni dutifully followed Arun outside of the
mandir to where Lucky and Hanara were already waving goodbye to
their friends and a few moments later they had all climbed aboard
the chugging rickshaw to commence the short journey home. Amongst
friends and aware of his plans, Chandni chatted freely with Lucky
and Hanara, the three of them delighted by Arun’s decision to stay,
but Arun found himself distracted and unable to dismiss Naresh’s
words from his head.

He hadn’t realised that there would be so many rules
and regulations, so many layers of complexity governing the simple
right to study in India, and he had foolishly assumed that the
costs would be lower than they were at home; wasn’t that why all
the big companies were shipping their operations out to India? He
was well aware that Arthur was going to be livid when he informed
him of his intentions, but he had rather hoped that the cheaper
cost might soften the blow and make for a compelling argument. He
sighed deeply, the chatter inside the rickshaw washing over him; it
was all very well getting excited, but it was painfully clear that
this was not going to be as simple as he had first thought and
before he could make any more plans or promises, or even broach the
subject with Arthur, he had a lot more investigating to do.

He decided to devote the next two days to the
pursuit of information, travelling into Puri with Lucky each
morning to gain access to the tools and resources that he needed.
He worked meticulously throughout the days, flitting between the
district library and a nearby internet café, detailing his findings
and desperately trying to clarify their accuracy. The information
that he happened upon seemed to be limited and often contradictory,
and it greatly frustrated Arun that uncovering the basics alone was
such an arduous task. With no alternative, however, he persevered
and by the end of the second day he had, what he considered to be,
a reasonable understanding of how the whole process would work.

Unfortunately, despite his arrogance, Naresh had
been right and without Indian citizenship Arun was not eligible to
apply to a public medical college. There were a number of notable
private colleges in Mumbai and the annual fees were on a par with
those at Oxford, but with lower living costs and courses only
lasting four-and-a-half years, overall, study in India remained the
cheaper option. Courses started in July and there were many
companies and agencies that could help him to navigate the somewhat
convoluted application process for a small fee, but all of these
things paled into insignificance when compared to the biggest
hurdle that he would need to overcome: the intake of foreign
students to each institution was tiny, perhaps only five places at
best, and competition was fierce.

Feeling somewhat dispirited, he discussed his
findings with Lucky and Hanara over dinner that evening, pushing
his food absent-mindedly around his plate. They both tried their
best to pep him up, but the reality was that they were so in awe of
everything that their brother had already experienced and
accomplished, that neither could fully grasp the probability that
Arun would not be accepted into medical college. Lucky promised to
help however he could and Hanara vowed to pray for him each and
every day until he secured a place. Though Arun was usually
sceptical of such intangible approaches to real world challenges,
he too found himself offering up a small prayer when they reached
the mandir that evening, willing to attempt anything that might
help his cause.

After the prayers were over, Arun noticed Chandni on
the opposite side of the hall discreetly trying to garner his
attention. She motioned towards the door with her eyes and quickly
disappeared outside. Somewhat taken aback by her boldness, a few
moments later he seized the opportunity to slip away from Lucky and
Hanara, and joined her on the steps of the mandir.

‘Hey,’ he said, sitting down beside her.

She was a picture of perfection in a silky violet
sari, the moonlight dancing mischievously in her eyes.

‘Hi,’ she replied, almost nonchalantly.

‘What has gotten into you, Miss Joshi? Outside the
mandir, alone, with a man; people will talk,’ he mocked, stealing a
cursory glance around the grounds to make sure that no-one had
followed them outside.

‘Arun, I got a place,’ she gushed breathlessly,
unable to hold it in any longer. ‘I got a place on the travel
programme in Mumbai!’

‘That’s brilliant! Congratulations!’ he exclaimed,
throwing his arms around her without thinking.

Chandni offered no resistance, allowing Arun to hold
her tightly and to express his pride at her achievement. They
stayed that way until the heat of the night rendered their embrace
uncomfortable, but when Arun started to pull away he felt the same
warm, feelings of longing that he had experienced on the beach
begin to creep over him once more. He looked into Chandni’s eyes,
bright and shiny with hope, and he knew, unreservedly, that this
was the right time. Cupping her face in his hands, he gently
pressed his lips to hers and kissed her long and deep.

The electricity between them set his pulse racing on
contact and a small moan of pleasure and surprise escaped Chandni’s
lips. She returned his gift, gingerly at first, but steadily
growing more confident and firm, and when Arun finally prised his
lips away, he left a broad smile behind on Chandni’s flushed face.
He grinned back at her inanely, causing them both to giggle, but
quickly remembering where they were, Chandni shuffled along the
steps to reinstate a safe distance between them.

‘I’m really excited for you, Chandni. You’re going
to make a great tour guide one day.’

‘Not if my Bapu-ji has anything to do with it. He’s
going to be so cross with me for going behind his back.’

‘Talk to him, Chandni, he might surprise you. Anyone
can see how much you want this; I’m sure that he will understand,’
he said, reassuringly.

‘What did your father say when you told him that you
were staying in India?’

‘I … I haven’t told him yet.’

‘Arun!’

‘I’m going to tell him, eventually. I’ve been doing
a bit of research and it’s very difficult for someone like me to
get a place. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to start until next
year and either way he’s not going to like it, so I figured I
should hold off on telling him until things are a little more …
certain.’

‘I think you need to take your own advice,’ replied
Chandni, matter-of-factly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You want this as much as I want the travel
programme, maybe even more. You are really smart and you have as
good a chance as anybody at getting accepted, you just have to
believe in yourself. Your father will understand if you take the
time to explain it to him, he might even be able to help you.’

Arun looked into her eyes and smiled sarcastically,
but he knew that she was right. Knowing too that the possibility of
Chandni going to Mumbai was fast becoming a reality spurned him on
further and now, more than ever, he was desperate to make the
situation work in his favour.

‘Okay, I will make you a deal. I will talk to my
father tomorrow, if you’ll talk to yours too. Deal?’

‘It’s a deal.’

THE night marked a return to insomnia for Arun, who
tossed and turned, consumed by his anxieties over the impending
conversation with Arthur. By the time the morning came, he
resembled the walking dead and, exhausted from his restless night,
the last thing that he felt like enduring was a confrontation.
Despite Chandni’s rousing pep talk, in the cold light of day he
knew with near certainty that whatever arguments he put forth,
however calm and rational he remained, Arthur was not going to be
pleased or supportive of his decision to stay. The only unknown was
what the extent of his displeasure would be and he had been acting
so strangely towards Arun since Catherine’s death that it had
become difficult to predict. When she was alive, Arthur had never
cared too much for bonding with his son, taking as little interest
in his personal life and activities as Catherine would let him get
away with. Yet now he seemed to want to know everything, to be
involved in every decision and to control the outcome of every
situation, and Arun didn’t know how to handle him.

When he made the familiar journey into the city with
Lucky, Arun was largely silent, lost in thought whilst his
brother’s banal chatter amounted to mere background noise along
with the passing traffic. Lucky dropped him outside of the internet
café that had become his second home over the previous few days
and, after waving goodbye, Arun trudged inside, already weary from
a conversation that hadn’t yet begun. It was too early to call
home, so Arun used the morning to continue with his medical college
research, sending e-mails to various agencies that could help with
the application process in a bid to distract himself from what lay
ahead.

At midday, he made his way to one of the small
wooden telephone booths at the back of the café and, securing the
door so that his conversation could remain a private one, nervously
dialled the fourteen digits that would connect him with Arthur. It
was stiflingly hot inside the booth and while the telephone rang
once, twice, and three times, he felt sweat begin to cascade down
the sides of his face, his pulse quickening in apprehension.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi Arthur, it’s me.’

‘Aaron! How are you?’

‘I’m good, thank you. How are you?’

‘All’s well at this end. Starting to make
preparations for your return; I’ve just had the cleaners in.’

Arun’s stomach lurched as he steeled himself for the
conversation that he had been dreading all morning.

‘About that, Arthur, I um … well I’ve decided to
stay a little longer.’

‘Is there anything special that you want? Anything
that you’ve been missing?’

‘Arthur, did you hear what I said?’ he croaked, his
palms beginning to sweat so much that he found it difficult to grip
the receiver.

‘I could ask Aunt Ruby how to make her shepherd’s
pie. I know it probably won’t be as good as when she makes it
herself, but I know how much you like it.’

‘Arthur, stop, please, listen to me. I’m not coming
home; I want to do my degree out here,’ he said, somewhat more
forcefully than intended.

There was silence at the other end of the line, save
for the sound of noisy, heavy breathing, and after three long
minutes Arthur had still not uttered a word.

‘Arthur, are you still there?’

‘
What do you
mean
you’re not coming home?’ he growled finally, in such a low
and irritable voice that Arun quickly recognised his father was on
the cusp of exploding.

‘I … I want to stay in India.’

‘Yes, I understood that part, Arun; why?’ continued
Arthur, impatiently.

‘Because … my life here is … good. I’m happy …
relaxed … and every single time I think about having to leave it
feels all wrong. I think … I think this is where I belong,
Arthur.’

‘Nonsense, Aaron. England is where you belong, with
me,’ spat Arthur dismissively.

‘Arthur, let’s both be honest for a second,’ he
began boldly, deciding that there would be no better moment to
address the elephant that had been in the room for the last
nineteen years, ‘you and I don’t exactly fit the stereotypical
father–son mould.’

‘That’s not true,’ lied Arthur, unconvincingly.

‘I think we both know that it is.’

‘Why are you doing this to me?’

‘I’m not doing anything to you, Arthur; this isn’t
about you. There is just something about this place, something
about being here, that feels right for me.’

‘You belong here with me; it’s what Catherine would
have wanted. It’s what I want, for us to be a proper family.’

‘We are family, Arthur, but –’

‘No, no we’re not; you were right. I know that I
haven’t been a good father in the past, but I’m trying now, Aaron.
I’ve been trying for months because really we’re the same, you and
I. All we had was Catherine and, sure, Aunt Ruby might come and go
from time to time, but it’s just us now. It’s just us and so you
can’t leave me. We have to stick together … we’re all that we’ve
got,’ he pleaded pitifully.

Arun was stunned into silence by Arthur’s ramblings.
Finally his odd behaviour, his sudden care and concern over the
past few months made sense: Arthur was afraid of being alone. With
Catherine gone Arthur had nothing, but he was wrong about one
thing, because Arun did have something and it was so much more than
he had ever dreamed would be possible.

‘Arthur,’ he began slowly, ‘I know that you’ve been
trying … and just because I’m not there, it doesn’t mean that I
don’t care. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone … but I have
to get on with my own life too. I’ll come to visit regularly and
maybe you could even come and visit me out here from time to time.
I’d –’

‘They’ve done this to you, haven’t they?’ exploded
Arthur, switching angrily.

‘Done what?’

‘I warned you about this; they’ve brainwashed you
into thinking that you can’t leave. I bet that temple’s trying to
turn you into some bloody robe-wearing Hare Krishna chanting
fanatic,’ he spat, his soft pleading tones abruptly replaced by the
shrill sounds of a venomous rage.

Being kind and honest had done nothing to convince
Arun of his obligation to return home and now, appearing to have
run out of options, Arthur had resorted to forceful bullying
instead.

‘Arthur, it’s not –’

‘No, Aaron, this whole thing is ridiculous. What on
earth are you going to do there? How are you going to support
yourself?’