Finding Arun (36 page)

A little over thirty minutes later, the brothers
found themselves parked outside of the mandir, where they knew
Rajubhai Joshi would be preparing for evening prayers.

‘Are you sure that you want to do this?’ asked
Lucky.

‘Yes of course, why?’

‘Maybe I should go instead? He doesn’t dislike me
quite as much.’

‘No, Lucky, I need to be the one to do this. I’ll
have to face him some day and if this doesn’t change his thoughts
about me, then I don’t know what will.’

Lucky beamed with admiration at his brother’s
courage and, nodding proudly, wished him the best of luck.

Arun found the old man in one of the side rooms
preparing the aarti tray. There was no-one else present in the
mandir and since it was clear that Rajubhai Joshi hadn’t heard him
approaching, he loudly cleared his throat to alert him to his
presence.

‘Arun,’ the old man uttered with surprise, ‘is there
something that I can help you with?’

‘I need to talk with you, please, sir.’

‘Arun, if this is about Chandni, then I am not
interested in whatever it is that you have to say. I’ve already had
to endure her incessant pleading on your behalf, without now having
to endure yours too,’ he finished curtly.

‘It’s not about Chandni, sir.’

‘Oh? Then?’

Rajubhai Joshi listened carefully whilst Arun
quickly retraced his conversation with Manoj and explained about
the existence and allure of the uninhabited site. When he finished,
he looked expectantly into Rajubhai Joshi’s eyes and awaited the
embrace of gratitude and the revelling in the genius of his idea
that he was certain would follow, but the old man was silently
contemplative.

‘It is a nice idea, in theory at least, but I doubt
very much that they would agree to it,’ he concluded calmly.

‘But you could ask. Ask them and see what they
say?’

‘I really don’t see the point in that, Arun. Your
friend, Mr Rama, was quite right. The project has effectively
started and they are just a few days away from beginning
construction of the new village.’

‘All the more reason for you to speak with them now,
before they start. Before it’s too late,’ wailed Arun, exasperated
by Rajubhai Joshi’s apparent refusal to fight.

‘No, Arun. As I have already said, it is a nice
idea, but I really think it is too late now. The time has passed
and we must accept that we will be moving, and make the necessary
preparations.’

‘So you won’t even try?’ he said, pouting in
defeat.

‘
How
dare
you, Arun; I
have
tried. I have been trying since before you even knew of the
situation, before you even knew of the village for that matter.
What’s done is done; we must all accept it and move on.’

‘But, what if –’

‘Arun, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of things to
finish preparing before this evening. I will see you later,’ he
finished dismissively.

Irritated by the exchange, Arun trudged back outside
to find Lucky, the frustration manifest in his face.

‘How did it go?’ questioned Lucky eagerly, before
Arun had even climbed back into the rickshaw.

‘He doesn’t think that they’ll agree to it. He
thinks that it’s too late,’ Arun sighed dejectedly.

‘Oh. Well that’s it then.’

‘Actually, Lucky, it’s not,’ cried Arun, suddenly
brightening when another thought occurred to him.

‘Arun, if Rajubhai Joshi and Mr Rama are both saying
that it is too late, then it must be too late, isn’t it? There’s
nothing that we can do.’

‘Yes, yes there is,’ he countered defiantly, more
determined than ever to prove Rajubhai Joshi wrong.

‘But Arun –’

‘Just drive, Lucky. I’ll explain on the way.

BEFORE Lucky could bring the rickshaw to a complete
standstill, Arun had jumped out and made it halfway across the yard
to the house. He tore through the front door and, ignoring Hanara’s
greeting, charged straight through to the bedroom that he shared
with Lucky. He could hear muffled voices rising in the living
quarters when Lucky finally caught up and tried to explain Arun’s
haste to a deeply offended Hanara, but placating his sister was not
his primary concern at that moment. He searched frantically until
he found his backpack, concealed beneath the mountainous piles of
clothes that he had borrowed from Lucky to attend the mandir. He
tipped it upside down and vigorously shook out the contents until
they virtually covered the mattress that he and Lucky used for
their bed. He sifted through his belongings, tossing clothes and
toiletries to one side to whittle down the mass, and it wasn’t long
before he found the very thing that he had been searching for.
Punching the air triumphantly, he marched back into the living
quarters, adrenaline now fuelling the urgency of his mission.

‘I found it; let’s go,’ he announced, nodding at
Lucky.

A look of confusion remained on Hanara’s face, but
Lucky instantly leapt to his feet and in a few short strides he had
joined Arun by the front door. Together, they wrestled it open and
within minutes they were back in the rickshaw heading out along the
dirt road to Puri. The sun had set and the night air was sticky,
but the speed with which they were hurtling towards the city
created a welcome breeze that gently ruffled Arun’s hair, helping
to keep him cool. He tightly gripped the side of the seat with one
hand, to keep from being thrown from the rickshaw every time Lucky
rounded a corner at speed, and with his clothes devoid of pockets,
in his other hand he gripped the small white card in which he was
placing all of his faith. His mind raced with possibilities, but he
could do nothing except hope that he would not be too late to save
the village from unnecessary upheaval.

Lucky expertly navigated them through the city
traffic until they reached the internet café that Arun had not had
the strength to return to since the day of his hellish
confrontation with Arthur. He left Lucky to go in search of a
parking spot and swept into the shop to procure one of the
telephone booths at the rear. His hands shook with nerves as he
carefully dialled the number on the front of the card and waited,
willing his call to be answered.

‘Hello?’

‘Prakash, hi. It’s Arun Rutherford from the
plane.’

‘Oh hello, Arun. How nice to hear from you again. Is
everything okay?’

‘Yes, sort of. Prakash, I’d like to ask a favour,
please.’

‘Of course; shoot.’

This was it, Arun’s last attempt to sell in his big
idea and he hoped that Prakash would be more enthusiastic than
Manoj and Rajubhai Joshi.

‘You know how you said that there weren’t any other
suitable sites to build the airport?’

‘Yes …’ answered Prakash incredibly slowly.

‘Well, I think that I’ve found a place. It’s close
to the city, there is virtually no-one living there and best of all
there won’t be a need to relocate the village if you go for
it.’

‘Arun, I assure you that we really did search high
and low for a site. Whatever it is that you think you’ve found
sounds too good to be true, which probably means that it is.’

‘It’s not, Prakash, I promise it’s not,’ Arun
pleaded, feeling like the opportunity was slipping away. ‘I’ve been
there myself; it is exactly the kind of place that you were looking
for.’

‘Have you told Mr Joshi about this place?’

‘I tried, but he wasn’t interested in hearing about
it and I know that we don’t have much time left. That’s why I need
your help. I was hoping you might be able to talk to the other
representatives? Maybe get them to take a look at the site? That’s
the favour that I wanted to ask.’

‘Ah, Arun,’ began Prakash, sounding distressed,
‘that’s a big favour and I really don’t know if I should start
meddling in all the –’

‘Please?’ Arun pleaded simply.

Prakash was his last hope and he desperately wanted
everything to work out. He wanted to be able to leave India knowing
that he had helped Lucky and Hanara to keep Mata-ji’s house, a
house that was full of memories, both old and new.

‘Okay,’ answered Prakash wearily, finally giving in,
‘let me see what I can do, but I’m not promising anything.’

‘Thanks, Prakash,’ whispered Arun, trying to contain
his excitement. ‘You have no idea how grateful I am.’

He read out the address of the old Rachna Hari
refuge, along with Manoj’s contact details, and though Prakash
explained that it might take some time to convince the others to
view the site, he gave Arun his word that he would not authorise
construction to commence until they had either approved or vetoed
his proposal.

Arun replaced the receiver and, with a glow of
positivity surrounding him, exited the booth to pay for the call.
Lucky, who had been patiently waiting for Arun to conclude his
discussion, immediately launched himself at his brother when he
stepped out of the booth.

‘What did he say?’

‘He’s going to talk to the others for us,’ answered
Arun with a smile.

‘That’s great news,’ screamed Lucky, flinging his
arms around his brother’s shoulders with gratitude. ‘Arun, if this
works, you will be the best little brother that anyone has ever
had.’

‘You mean that I’m not already?’ he scoffed,
feigning insult as they left the shop and started towards home.

The next few days were slow and torturous whilst
they waited to hear whether the airport would still be built over
their village. Prakash had reassured Arun that he would find a way
to communicate any developments to him, but with no telephones or
computers present in the village Arun had no idea how he proposed
to manage this. It was hard to resist the temptation to travel into
Puri each day and bombard Prakash with calls and e-mails,
especially with Lucky and Hanara constantly haranguing him for an
update, but Arun forced himself to remember that Prakash was doing
him a favour and he couldn’t risk aggravating the only person that
might still be able to help their cause. The three of them decided
to remain tight-lipped about their intervention, not wanting to
risk falsely raising the hopes of the community, and on Arun’s
part, not wishing to antagonise Rajubhai Joshi any further. Only a
few days remained before he was due to leave India for good and
after all of the drama that had taken place in recent weeks, he was
happy to simply spend the time with his family and let it slip by
uneventfully, with one small exception.

With Hanara acting as a go-between Arun had managed
to arrange a final meeting alone with Chandni one evening. Her time
of the month was conveniently approaching and though she had been
reluctant to risk meeting at first, eventually she had submitted to
a final visit from Arun at home, whilst Rajubhai Joshi attended the
mandir. Lucky and Hanara dropped their brother outside of Chandni’s
house on their way to prayers and promised to pick him up again on
the way home, saving him the wearisome walk in the dark. Once the
rickshaw had disappeared into the night, Arun rapped softly on
Chandni’s door until he heard light footsteps approaching. As had
become habit, she opened the door a tiny fraction and waited for
Arun to slip inside of his own accord.

Alone again at last, their arms and lips quickly
reunited and they devoured each other hungrily, releasing the weeks
of tension that had built up from being unable touch or speak to
one another. It was a bittersweet moment, but they tried their best
not to let Arun’s impending departure spoil their fun.

‘How are you?’ enquired Chandni sweetly, as she sat
wrapped in Arun’s arms, smiling to herself contentedly.

‘I’m fine, how are you?’ he answered, lightly
kissing the top of her head.

‘Better now that you are here.’

‘Good; I’m glad.’

‘How are you feeling about going home?’

Arun winced at the prospect of leaving, having tried
so hard not to think about it, but Chandni couldn’t see his face
and remained silent while she awaited his response.

‘Okay, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still much
rather stay here, but I’m looking forward to starting my course in
October. It will be good to have something to focus on, something
to work towards, instead of thinking about how much I am missing
you all the time. It’s hard seeing you every day, knowing that we
can’t be together.’

‘I know. I am trying and my Bapu-ji is not nearly as
cross as he was at first, but it takes time.’

‘I know. What’s the latest on Mumbai?’

‘Well, they’ve agreed to defer my entry into the
programme until next year; I figure that gives me enough time to
work on my Bapu-ji. I think he’s coming around to the idea that I
want to do more with my life, which is something at least, but
Mumbai is still very much out of the question. If I’m lucky, he
might allow me to go to Puri.’

‘That is something,’ he answered, hugging her
tightly against his chest.

They sat lounging together in the comfortable
silence of the night, no words necessary for each to understand how
the other felt, until Chandni released herself from Arun’s arms and
sat back against her heels.

‘Thank you, Arun.’

‘For what?’

‘For everything. For taking the time to get to know
me, when nobody else would. For loving me enough to stand up to my
Bapu-ji and for pushing me towards my dreams. I would never have
applied to the programme if it wasn’t for you,’ she explained
humbly.

‘Yes you would have. Maybe not this year, maybe not
even next year, but eventually you would have. You’ve always had it
in you, Chandni, you’re not like the other girls in the village;
you want more for yourself than just a husband, and a home, and the
same life that your mother lived. You just needed to conquer your
fears, that was all.’