Finding Arun (32 page)

‘But she does have what it takes,’ whined Arun.

He was grateful for the fact that Rajubhai Joshi was
calm, but he was frustrated on Chandni’s behalf by his lack of
belief in her.

‘Arun, you do not know my daughter like I do. She
has never been outside of this village for more than one day at a
time; how do you suppose she would cope in a big city all alone?
Mumbai is a dangerous place for those unaccustomed to its pace;
anything could happen to her there. There is nothing wrong with a
simple life here in the village. A life devoted to God, with her
family and friends, where she belongs.’

‘But that’s just it, she doesn’t want a simple life.
If –’

‘She was content with it, until you came along.’

‘But, sir, if you just –’

‘Your mother was a very good friend of mine, Arun,’
interrupted Rajubhai Joshi. ‘She was a wonderful woman and a devout
Hindu, whose passing caused me great personal sadness. It is only
out of respect for her memory that I have found the restraint not
to be harsher in my dealings with you today, but from now on, you
are to stay away from Chandni. Do you understand me?’

‘But –’

‘I mean it, Arun. If I so much as see you talking to
her, I will have you forcibly removed from this village. Do I make
myself clear?’

‘Yes, sir,’ mouthed Arun, solemnly.

‘Good,’ pronounced Rajubhai Joshi, struggling to his
feet. He drained the last dregs of water from his cup and, setting
it to one side, disappeared through the front door without a
backward glance.

Arun stared at the space where the old man had been.
He felt hollow and numb, as though someone had removed all feeling
from his body and placed it into a box for safe keeping, forgetting
that he might need it on occasion. Everything was falling apart and
he was powerless to stop it. Only a few days before he had been
full of confidence and clear about the path that he wanted to
follow, but now Arthur was threatening to disown him and, when he
needed to talk to Chandni the most, it was the one thing that he
was forbidden from doing. He desperately craved her words of
wisdom, her shining optimism and the reassuring comfort of her
embrace, but something told him that Rajubhai Joshi had not been
quite so forgiving in his dealings with her, and whatever
rebellious streak remained, whatever urges she might still feel, he
knew that she would not act upon them now.

Arun felt lost and entirely overwhelmed for the
second time in as many days, the familiar sting of frustrated tears
pricking his eyes once more. The tears came thick and fast and he
sobbed for what he had lost, sobbed for what could have been and
sobbed for what he was being denied. Never in his wildest dreams
had he imagined that this journey to India would take him to the
places that it had and now it had taken him full circle, right back
to the place that he thought he had left behind. A place of
sadness, loneliness and longing for a life that he could not
have.

‘Arun? What’s the matter?’ came Hanara’s voice from
the door. She rushed immediately to his side, but Arun was too
emotional to speak and as she cradled his head in her lap, willing
him to explain what had occurred, he could do nothing but sob
harder.

It took until Lucky’s return that evening for Arun
to regain his composure, but the feeling of numbness prevailed.
Slumped against the cushions during dinner, he wearily pushed the
food around his plate, his appetite buried beneath the depths of
his sorrow. After much goading from Lucky, he had recounted the
details of his exchanges with both Arthur and Rajubhai Joshi, but
his eyes remained stony and dry, with no more tears left to cry.
Lucky and Hanara were surprised to learn that Arthur had been so
explosive and that by contrast Rajubhai Joshi had been so calm, and
though they were sympathetic to his predicament, neither was able
to offer a viable solution.

Arun didn’t want to go home and if he did he was
certain that Arthur would wield the payment of his tuition fees
over him and prevent him from returning to India ever again. Yet if
he stayed, with no money and no means of supporting himself, how
would he ever make it to medical college in Mumbai? He would be
forced to leave the village sooner than he thought in order to find
a suitably well-paying job, but even then it could take years
before he was able to save enough money. And what of his beloved
Chandni? How could he stay and see her face every day, knowing that
he couldn’t speak to her, let alone touch her? How could he go to
Mumbai and leave her behind?

For a week, the same thoughts swam round and round
in Arun’s head, until he thought that he might implode from
overanalysing his options. Lucky and Hanara did their best to help
him work through his thoughts and feelings, but there could be no
doubt that the stress of the situation was getting to him. Unable
to eat and incapable of sleep, the days merged together in a
jumbled blur until Arun resembled a frail shadow of his former
self. His hair was lank and overgrown, his face tired and gaunt,
and the bones of his shoulders protruded unattractively through the
skin, because of the amount of weight that he had lost. Though at
first it had made him happy to glimpse Chandni, even from a
distance, evenings at the mandir had quickly become unbearable and
the indifference that she had been forced to assume tore painfully
at his heart. Eventually, the insatiable yearnings and desires sent
him spiralling into a deep depression and, constantly feeling tired
and weak, Arun’s days in the shop were spent staring into space,
hoping for a solution to magically appear.

On one such day, when Arun was so lost in self-pity
that he could no longer discern what day it was, he was roused from
his stupor by the unexpected sight of Chandni and Rajubhai Joshi
approaching the shop. Simultaneously scared and excited, he quickly
pulled himself up and slicked back his hair, in a bid to appear a
little more presentable. By the time they reached the shop, he
could see that Chandni too had lost a lot of weight, but she kept
her pale, sad face fixed to the floor, speaking only when addressed
directly by her father.

‘Good afternoon, Arun.’

‘Good afternoon, sir,’ he croaked, desperately
trying to keep his eyes from wandering over to Chandni.

‘Show him which one it is that you need then,’
continued Rajubhai Joshi, turning to face his daughter.

‘Just one packet of those, please,’ mumbled Chandni,
pointing to a box of sanitary towels without lifting her eyes from
the ground.

Arun reached up to the shelf behind him and placed
the box on the counter, lightly grazing Chandni’s palm, but never
taking his eyes off Rajubhai Joshi’s expressionless face. Chandni
scooped the box into her purse whilst her father noisily dropped a
few silver coins into Arun’s outstretched palm by way of
payment.

‘Thank you, Arun. Come along, Chandni,’ he
ordered.

Within seconds the tense experience was over and
Arun watched as Chandni obediently trudged down the puddle-filled
dirt path after her father. They were some distance away when Arun
saw something fall from Chandni’s balled fist and flutter gently to
the floor. His immediate instinct was to call out to her, but not
wishing to incur Rajubhai Joshi’s wrath, he thought better of it
and remained mute. When the two figures were no more than specs in
the distance, Arun stepped out of the shop and walked towards where
the object had fallen. Lying in the mud was a small slip of white
paper bearing his name that had been folded several times into a
small square. Lifting it from the ground, he wiped off the
terracotta sludge and carefully began to unravel the folds of
paper.

Come to my house tomorrow afternoon.

Bapu-ji will be away.

C x

ARUN’S palms were hot and sweaty when he walked the
familiar dirt track to Chandni’s house the next day. Keeping his
head low, he tried to remain inconspicuous and, though he felt
reassured by the fact that Rajubhai Joshi was away from the
village, the thought that somebody else might spot him walking to,
or worse entering, Chandni’s house filled him with a deep sense of
dread. Rounding the corner onto her street, he looked around
cautiously, and, satisfied that the coast was clear, he quickly
approached her house and rapped softly on the door. His breathing
was ragged and his heart thumped furiously in his chest, a mixture
of adrenaline and desire fuelling the pursuit of what he knew to be
a dangerous activity. After a few seconds he heard footsteps
approach and the door opened inwards until it was slightly ajar.
Arun pushed the door back further, just far enough to create a gap
that he could squeeze his lanky frame through and quickly closed
the door behind him.

Chandni launched herself at him as soon as he was
safely inside, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and
burying her head in his chest. Relieved, he enveloped her in his
arms and fervently kissed the top of her head, breathing in the
sweet, familiar aroma of her hair.

‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he whispered, stroking
her silky sepia tresses soothingly.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ she breathed.

They clung to each other tightly, lost in their
embrace for several minutes, until eventually Chandni untangled
herself and motioned for them both to sit down.

‘How have you been?’ he asked tentatively, taking
stock of her small face.

She looked pale and tired, her usually shining green
eyes devoid of the sparkle that he so loved.

‘I’m okay,’ she sighed, leaning against Arun’s
chest. ‘My Bapu-ji is still pretty mad about everything
though.’

‘I don’t understand how he found out about us; we
were so careful.’

Chandni sighed deeply.

‘Bapu-ji and I were discussing the travel programme,
like I promised. He was quite upset at the thought of me going to
Mumbai alone, so I tried to explain that Naresh would be close by
to look after me. For a moment I thought that he was actually going
to let me go, but then Naresh started saying that he’d seen us
together outside of the mandir and that you were planning to go to
medical college in Mumbai too. He was convinced that we were
running away together and he said that he would not help me to lie.
Of course Bapu-ji believed him and then, and then …’ she broke off,
her eyes welling up with tears as she tried and failed to hold back
her sobs.

‘Shh, it’s okay,’ soothed Arun, stroking her head
comfortingly, ‘it’s not your fault.’

‘Oh but it is, Arun, it is my fault. He was so
angry, so disappointed in me, that I told him everything. I
couldn’t lie anymore.’

Arun hugged Chandni closer, caressing her back while
she shook from the force of her sobs. It wasn’t her fault and even
Naresh, for all Arun’s dislike of his character, had thought that
he was doing the right thing by Rajubhai Joshi; there was no malice
in his intent. He held Chandni until the worst of it had passed and
kissed away the tears that remained.

‘I’m sorry, Chandni,’ he whispered after a time,
‘really I am.’

‘What do you have to be sorry for?’ she answered,
sitting up and curling her legs beneath her protectively.

‘For getting you into so much trouble with your
father, and with Naresh.’

‘Never be sorry, Arun; I’m not sorry. I have had a
wonderful time with you, it was better than I could have ever
hoped, and I will always keep the memories of it very fondly,’ she
said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears again.

‘What? Wait, hold on a second,’ he said softly,
taking her into his arms once more, ‘it’s not over. What are you
talking about?’

‘I tried, Arun. I really tried, but he’s not going
to allow us to be together. Not now, not ever,’ she wailed.

‘Please don’t cry, Chandni. Sure, he’s mad right
now, but he’ll calm down eventually.’

‘You didn’t see his face, Arun. He was so very angry
that I’d been lying to him, so very disappointed. I wanted to see
you, just one last time, but after today … after today I really
can’t see you again.’

Arun felt as though he’d taken a bullet to the
chest. Chandni could not possibly be suggesting what it sounded as
though she was.

‘
You
can
see
me. You
can
see me,
Chandni; I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand,’ Arun pleaded
desperately. ‘He’s only upset because he thinks that we are just
having fun, that I’m not serious about you. He doesn’t realise that
I love you, Chandni.’

The words escaped his mouth before he’d really had
the opportunity to process them, but when he heard them out loud he
knew that they were true. He had known that there was something
special about Chandni from the moment he had laid eyes on her and
in the short time that they had spent together his affections had
only grown stronger. It was the only natural conclusion, the only
explanation for why he felt the way that he did every time he
looked into her eyes. He didn’t know how his feelings had developed
so quickly, but he knew in his heart that he wanted to be with her.
Whether he was forced to return to London or not, and even if they
could not be together physically, he wasn’t ready for things to be
over between them emotionally.

‘I love you,’ he repeated, tipping her head up
towards him so that he could look into her eyes and she would know
that he was being sincere.

He waited for her to respond as she peeked up at him
from between her long lashes, seeming simultaneously delighted and
distressed by his words.

‘I … I love you too, Arun,’ she whispered hoarsely,
‘more than you will ever know.’

It was all the encouragement that he needed to hear
and he bent forward to kiss her deeply and passionately, no longer
caring who might catch them.