Finding Arun (24 page)

‘It’s not about colour, Hanara. Your other friends
are … just a bit too full on for me, whereas Chandni … Chandni is
different. She’s quieter, but when you get to know her she’s sweet
and funny, and incredibly smart.’

‘Who’s sweet, and funny, and smart?’ came Lucky’s
voice from the door.

They had been so engrossed in their conversation
that they hadn’t heard his rickshaw pulling up outside.

‘It appears that our little brother has taken a
liking to a lady,’ answered Hanara, grinning mischievously.

‘Oh, really? And who is it, this lady?’ Lucky
queried, joining his siblings amongst the cushions scattered on the
floor. He looked from his brother to his sister expectantly,
desperate to be let in on the secret.

‘It’s Chandni,’ replied Arun, feeling embarrassed
all over again by the attention.

‘Hey! My brother even has good taste,’ cried Lucky,
slapping him playfully on the back.

‘But please, please, don’t tell anyone,’ Arun
begged, suddenly recalling Hanara’s words about the village being
small and everyone knowing everyone else’s business.

‘Your secret is safe with me,’ affirmed Lucky,
holding his hands up and winking at Arun conspiratorially. ‘I
didn’t know that when you were saying that you felt sick, that it
was a love sickness only.’

‘Very funny, Lucky.’

‘I’m joking only; how are you feeling now?
Better?’

Arun glanced at Hanara, unsure whether to keep up
the charade now that she knew the real reason he had stayed behind
for the evening.

‘He’s fine,’ she answered, stealing a knowing
sideways glance at her little brother. ‘I made him some of
Mata-ji’s special drink when I came home.’

‘Hey, are you okay?’ cried Lucky, immediately
concerned when he caught proper sight of Hanara’s damp,
kohl-stained face.

‘I’m fine. I dropped a pan on my foot only when I
was preparing the drink,’ she lied convincingly.

‘Ouch, you must be more careful next time … so,
Arun,’ Lucky continued, turning his attention back to his brother,
‘shall I ask if Rajubhai Joshi will meet with you tomorrow?’

‘Rajubhai Joshi? Why?’

‘For Chandni, of course,’ Lucky quipped, laughing
uncontrollably at his own joke.

‘Oh no, I don’t want him to know,’ protested Arun,
instantly serious and distraught at the prospect alone.

‘But how else is Chandni going to know of your
feelings for her?’

‘I don’t know, but I’d at least like to tell her
myself and see what she says first.’

Hanara and Lucky both began to laugh
uncontrollably.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘It doesn’t matter what Chandni is saying,’ answered
Hanara, between fits of giggles.

‘Why not?’

‘Because everyone knows that the only way to an
Indian girl’s heart is through her father.’

WHEN he awoke the next morning, something had
changed inside of Arun. He didn’t know whether it was his encounter
with Chandni, or the fact that Hanara had been so distraught at the
prospect of him leaving, but he felt the roots of a deep attachment
to his birthplace tighten their grip on his heart. He couldn’t
envisage staying in Puri forever, but he could no longer imagine
his days without seeing Lucky, Hanara and Chandni either. Life in
the village was simple, uncomplicated and too monotonous to satisfy
his long-term ambitions, yet it was only against this simplistic
and uncomplicated backdrop that he had been able to understand and
appreciate the things that really mattered in life.

The unconditional support and security of a loving
family, the sense of self-worth from contributing to and being
accepted into a community, and his love for Chandni, because he was
certain that this is what it was, were all new to Arun. He had
never experienced such strong feelings of attachment towards a
place and its people, especially after such a short amount of time.
He reasoned that it could only be the blinding love that Aunt Ruby
had spoken of, that could make him want to devote himself to a life
so unlike the one that he had always imagined he would lead. The
feeling was delightfully strange, tempting him down a path of
uncertainty, in which the only certainty was that he would continue
to follow the path, because he had to.

He moved through his daily rituals like a ghost that
day, his silhouette present in the shop, but his soul distant and
detached while he contemplated the events unfolding in his life. He
was so absorbed in his thoughts that when Chandni appeared in his
line of vision, until she spoke he was convinced that she was a
figment of his imagination.

‘Hi,’ she said shyly, peering up at him.

She looked radiant, the sun illuminating her face
perfectly so that her green eyes sparkled in the light.

‘Chandni, hi, how are you?’ he asked, struggling
clumsily to his feet and knocking over several items in the
process.

‘I’m well, thank you for asking … how are you?’

‘I’m good … good.’

An awkward silence followed while they eyed each
other nervously, unsure of what to say next.

‘Yesterday was …’ they both began in unison.

The comedy of their synchronised speech caused them
both to giggle, instantly easing the tension in the air.

‘Ladies first.’

‘I just wanted to say thank you for coming to check
on me yesterday. It was very kind of you … and I’m sorry that I
pushed you out of the house. I hope you were not offended?’

Arun laughed out loud, remembering the panic with
which Chandni had forced him through the side door.

‘Not at all.’

‘It’s just that if my Bapu-ji had found you there,
well he would have thought the worst and then we would both have
been in a lot of trouble.’

‘I understand. Good thing you’re so well practised
at working the escape route.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you must have had to push a lot of men
through that door.’

Arun regretted the words as soon as they had left
his mouth. Chandni instantly averted her gaze and he could only
gape at her silently, horrified that his words were going to be
interpreted in the wrong way.

‘No man has ever visited me at the house before,’
she murmured quietly, without lifting her head.

Arun continued to gawk at her, this time in
surprise; it wasn’t what she had said, but what she was alluding to
that had stunned him. She was such a beautiful, dainty woman, that
it was difficult to imagine that he could be the only one to have
ever pursued her. Yet when he thought about it in more depth, he
realised that he had never seen any men around Chandni. He had
never seen any men approach her at the mandir and he was sure that
if one had been fortunate enough to win her affections by now, that
they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to let her go.

‘That can’t be true. I would have thought that a
beautiful girl like you would have men knocking at her door every
day,’ he tried, more flirtatiously than intended.

Chandni blushed, a rosy colour spreading across her
fair cheeks, the result of being simultaneously flattered and
embarrassed by the attention being lavished upon her.

‘I wish that were so, but my Bapu-ji is a very …
effective deterrent.’

‘Rajubhai Joshi? Really? But he seemed very
welcoming to me.’

‘
Oh, he is if you’re interested in getting involved
with the mandir, his
other
baby,’ she answered sarcastically.

‘But?’

‘But when it comes to me, he’s very … particular …
too particular. He scares people away, which is funny when you
consider how desperate he is to have me married.’

Arun laughed loudly at Chandni’s dry wit, but
beneath the humour it was evident that the situation deeply
troubled her.

‘Men don’t see me as Chandni; they see me as
Rajubhai Joshi’s daughter. Sometimes I just wish …’

‘What? What do you wish?’ he probed, feeling more
and more enamoured by the second.

‘No, it’s really silly, never mind. Forget that I
ever said anything.’

‘I’m sure that it’s not. Go on, you can tell me,’ he
pushed, desperate for her to open up further and share her
innermost feelings with him.

Chandni hesitated and gazed deeply into Arun’s
almond-shaped hazel eyes, setting his stomach all a flutter.

‘I just wish someone would be brave enough to take a
chance; to forget about pleasing my Bapu-ji for one moment and to
worry about getting to know me instead. Nobody ever wants to know
what I want, what pleases me,’ she finished, sighing.

Not enthused by Lucky and Hanara’s suggestion that
he approach Rajubhai Joshi the night before, Chandni’s words were
like music to Arun’s ears.

‘How do you know that someone doesn’t want to know?’
he challenged.

‘Oh I know it. It’s just not how things work around
here; everybody knows and respects my Bapu-ji too much to do
anything that might upset him.’

‘What if … what if someone wasn’t from around here?’
he croaked, his voice betraying the confident nonchalance that he
had wanted to portray.

Chandni flushed pink once more and, though she was
silent, the adoring green eyes with which she was now looking at
Arun gave him all the confidence that he needed to ask the question
that he had been denied the opportunity to ask the night
before.

‘Chandni … would you like to go out together some
time? Just the two of us?’

He held his breath tightly in his chest while he
waited for an answer, the response seeming to take an eternity to
emerge from her lips.

‘Do you mean … like ... on a date?’ she asked
timidly, blinking up at him.

‘Yes … on a date.’

‘I’d like that very much,’ she whispered.

Arun released the breath and his heart soared. Deep
down he knew that Chandni would accept his proposition, but, ever
the pragmatist, his head had not allowed him to believe it until he
heard her say it out loud. She was a free spirit who wanted someone
to get to know her, someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge Rajubhai
Joshi’s rules, and whilst he had to admit that he was scared of
what the old man might do if he found out, the chance to spend more
time with Chandni was worth the risk.

‘Great. Where should we go?’

Chandni was pensive for a minute.

‘We’ll have to go out of the village, we can’t be
seen alone together,’ she concluded finally. ‘If we stay around
here someone will certainly see us and my Bapu-ji will know
straight away.’

Arun’s mind was immediately pulled back to the
secluded spots that he and Lucky had visited when he first arrived
in Puri; a few would make the perfect place for he and Chandni to
be alone together.

‘How about if we go into Puri? It’s far enough away
and the city is full of people; no-one would pay us any attention
at all.’

‘Puri would be perfect,’ Chandni squealed, starting
to get excited, ‘but then it would have to be at the weekend. I
don’t think that I could get away for long enough to make the
journey otherwise. How will we get there?’

‘I can ask Lucky to take us in his rickshaw.’

Chandni blushed at the thought of more people
knowing about their secret rendezvous.

‘Are you sure Lucky won’t mind taking us? I don’t
want to be a trouble to him.’

‘I’m sure that Lucky would be more than happy to
help out,’ he answered, recalling the excitement with which his
brother had discussed approaching Rajubhai Joshi the night
before.

A grave look crossed Chandni’s beautiful face and
she glanced up at Arun, her eyes suddenly solemn and serious. The
look caused Arun’s body to stiffen, the hairs on the back of his
neck standing on end with apprehension.

‘Arun, before we can go, I must tell Hanara what we
are planning to do. I don’t want her to think that I am meddling in
her family.’

Arun breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed, warmed
by Chandni’s thoughtfulness and sweet sincerity. She always seemed
to put everybody else’s feelings before her own, a sentiment that
he was well acquainted with.

‘That’s okay. I don’t think that she will be
surprised to hear about it though.’

Chandni regarded him with suspicion, seemingly
wondering how long he had been plotting to take her out for and
exactly how many people he had told. His enthusiasm was endearing,
but the more people that knew of their plans, the greater the
chance of her father finding out about their exploits.

‘Shall we try to go this weekend?’ she asked
hopefully, smiling again.

‘Yes, this weekend would be per –, oh wait, no,’
answered Arun, thinking out loud. ‘I um … well I can’t this
weekend.’

‘That’s okay. We can always go to Puri the weekend
afterwards,’ Chandni responded brightly.

‘We're going to Puri for Rath Yatra in a few days …
and then I fly back to England after the festival. I won’t be here
the weekend after,’ explained Arun sombrely.

‘Oh,’ mouthed Chandni, her face falling at once.

Arun’s heart ached, knowing that in a single
sentence he had made her beautiful smile disappear, but without
hesitation, his immediate instinct was to fix the situation. He
could stay for another week, another month; however long was
necessary to restore the smile to Chandni’s face. But then what
would happen? No matter how many times he delayed it, one day he
would have to leave and he started to wonder whether it was wrong
to act upon the feelings that he held for Chandni after all. Was it
wrong to raise her hopes of experiencing the romance that her
father had always made impossible, only to take it away from her a
week, or a month later?

His head told him that it was cruel, that it was
self-serving and selfish, and that if he couldn’t sustain such a
romance, then he shouldn’t initiate it; but he couldn’t help
himself. Whenever he saw Chandni, whenever he looked into her eyes,
it made him want to make the impossible, possible, and with that
all reason went out of the window. He didn’t care that he would
have to go back to England, nor did he care that they would have to
hide from Rajubhai Joshi and the rest of the village; he just
wanted to be with Chandni for however long he could, and if the
time he had wasn’t enough then he would simply have to find
more.