Finding Arun (21 page)

The mandir was decorated with colourful murals
depicting scenes of gods and goddesses that he recognised from
Lucky’s earlier descriptions in the rickshaw, and Arun found
himself mesmerised by the enchanting stories that seemed to unfold
dramatically across the walls. His attention was soon drawn away by
a large shrine at the centre of the hall, which contained an
elaborate and more opulent statue of the Elephant God, whom he was
familiar with from Mata-ji’s house. The statue was held on a
plinth, lavishly adorned with rich fabrics, pretty garlands of
flowers, fruits and other small offerings, and was only visible
through the glass doors set into each side of the intricately
carved white chamber that housed it.

Desperate to keep the crowd moving, Lucky guided
Arun to the right of the shrine and tugged sharply at his elbow,
encouraging him to sit down amongst the other men that had gathered
there to pray. Still gazing at the statue in awe, Arun silently
obeyed, folding his long legs beneath him until he was nestled
snugly between Lucky and another man about his age, peering over
the sea of heads towards the shrine. A balding, rotund man, dressed
entirely in white robes appeared to be leading the evening’s
proceedings and, entranced, Arun watched while he carefully peeled
back one of the doors to the shrine and started to chant a
song-like prayer in a strange tongue.

The balding man made further offerings to the
Elephant God, flicking pinches of first a red, and then a yellow
powder over its head, before sprinkling uncooked grains of rice and
small flowers around the base of the plinth. Every so often the
balding man would pause in his chanting and the worshippers would
call out something undecipherable in unison. The ritual fascinated
Arun at first, but when he realised that it was simply being
repeated over and over again, his interest began to wane. He looked
to his left, trying to gauge from Lucky’s face how much longer the
prayers would continue, but his brother’s head was bowed and his
eyes were closed deep in worship.

Arun continued to look around the hall and quickly
registered that the other men mirrored Lucky’s bowed head and focus
on prayer. Out of boredom, his eyes began to follow the tales
depicted by the murals along the walls, his mind fashioning its own
stories to pass the time. He had made it all the way to the
opposite side of the hall before he caught sight of the community’s
women, clustered together in their brightly coloured saris like the
feathers of some exotic, yet flightless, bird. He had been so busy
focusing on the balding man, and then on the murals, that he hadn’t
realised that they were in the same room.

He watched them for a while, their heads bowed deep
in prayer like their male counterparts, and it wasn’t long before
his eyes picked out the soft pink folds of his sister’s sari. Lost
in prayer, Hanara looked miniscule compared to the other women, the
unusually calm and peaceful expression on her face revealing a rare
glimpse of the softer side so often concealed beneath her
intimidating exterior. He studied her intently, taking advantage of
the opportunity to really see her for the first time, safe in the
knowledge that it would not end with her scowling at him. She was
beautiful in her own way and now that they were starting to get
along with one another, her personality had lost some of its ugly
edge. He tried to determine whether Hanara resembled their mother,
but just when he began to picture Kalpana in his mind, he found
himself immediately distracted by the young girl seated in front of
his sister.

Dressed in a silky, mint-green sari, the young girl
was a picture of perfection, the delicate features of her smooth,
milky skin just peeking out from beneath a glossy veil of
sepia-coloured hair. Arun gazed longingly at her, unable to tear
his eyes away, and his heart began to thump ferociously in his
chest; she was the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen. He
watched with interest while her soft pink lips silently mouthed the
words to each prayer along with the balding man, speaking audibly
only when the others did, to answer his calls. He was so absorbed
in watching the young girl that he failed to notice the men around
him getting to their feet, but a few moments later the sound of
Lucky’s voice dragged him from his reverie.

‘What are you looking at, hey, Arun?’

‘Who’s that girl? The one sat in front of
Hanara.’

‘Oh, that is Chandni only. She is one of Hanara’s
very good friends. Come, we have to go and take prasad now.’

Arun struggled to his feet and followed Lucky to the
long line of men queuing in front of the shrine. While his brother
chatted away quietly with his friends, Arun found himself scanning
the room, desperate to catch another glimpse of the beautiful
Chandni, but the band of women had rapidly dispersed and neither
Chandni nor Hanara were anywhere to be seen. The queue slowly
advanced forward and soon Arun was standing before the shrine with
the balding man stood to his right, seemingly poised to offer him
something from a large stainless steel pot. Taking his cue from
Lucky once more, he clasped his hands together and bowed his head
in prayer, unsure how long he ought to continue for. A few seconds
later he felt the familiar tug of Lucky’s hand at his elbow and
when he looked up, his brother was beaming across at him, motioning
with his head for Arun to approach the balding man.

‘Rajubhai Joshi, this is our brother, Arun,’ Lucky
announced proudly.

‘Welcome, Arun. It is lovely to meet with you.’

Up close the balding man had a softly spoken
demeanour and his kind face, smooth and fair, with sparkling green
eyes, instantly put Arun at ease.

‘It’s lovely to meet you too, sir,’ he said,
extending his hand politely.

Instead of shaking it, Rajubhai Joshi lifted a
small, soft, sand-coloured lump of food from the stainless steel
pot and deposited it into Arun’s hand, but before Arun could ask
for an explanation, Rajubhai Joshi had done the same to Lucky, and
the waiting worshippers had shooed them both away from the
shrine.

The brothers made their way back out into the moist
night air, while Lucky attempted to explain the significance of the
prasad in Arun’s hand. In return for their offerings, the prasad
was a gift containing blessings from the Elephant God and its
consumption was certain to bring them all good fortune. Slightly
dubious, but figuring that he was due a change in fortune, Arun
tipped the soft lump into his mouth and was pleasantly surprised by
the sweet, moreish taste as the cardamom-tinged mixture dissolved
on his tongue. Just as he was licking the residue from his palm,
Hanara rejoined them on the steps, the gaggle of girls still in
tow, though much to Arun’s delight, a very quiet Chandni was now
buried amongst them.

‘Hello girls,’ said Lucky, flashing his most
charming, crooked smile.

‘Hi Lucky,’ they chimed in unison, though each of
them was too busy staring dreamily at Arun to pay him any further
attention.

Arun blushed, unaccustomed to being the recipient of
female attention, whilst the girls looked from Hanara to Lucky
expectantly, eager for introductions to be made.

‘This is our brother, Arun. He has come to visit all
the way from England,’ Hanara announced, an unexpected hint of
pride evident in her voice.

This was enough of an opener for the girls, who
instantly began falling over each other to introduce themselves,
bombarding Arun with questions about England and how long he would
be visiting for. Arun did his best to remember each of their names
and to answer all of their questions, but his eyes kept wandering
back to Chandni, who stood silently behind the other girls,
nervously clutching a small bag in her hands. Up close, she was
even more beautiful and Arun couldn’t help but notice how her sari
complimented the striking green colour of her eyes.

‘
All right girls, that’s enough now. I know that
you are
tired
of
fighting over me every day only and that my brother is
almost
as good looking as me, but we
are going home now, isn’t it?’ joked Lucky.

The girls groaned in harmony at Lucky’s poor humour,
but comprehending the underlying sentiment, they eased up on their
questioning.

‘Do you need a ride home?’ Hanara asked, turning to
Chandni.

‘Yes, please. Only if it is not too much trouble,’
she answered sweetly, glancing fleetingly at Arun before looking to
Lucky expectantly.

Her silky voice was like music to Arun’s ears; soft
and melodious, it fitted perfectly with her petite and feminine
form.

‘It is never too much trouble for you,’ Lucky
answered brightly, inadvertently causing a smile to take possession
of Arun’s face.

They waved goodbye to the gaggle of girls gathered
on the mandir steps and piled themselves into Lucky’s rickshaw.
Just as Arun had hoped, Hanara reclaimed her spot in the front
seat, leaving him no option but to sit alongside Chandni in the
back. Lucky and Hanara talked animatedly amongst themselves,
clearly rejuvenated by their visit to the mandir and glad to be
back in the swing of village life, whilst Arun struggled to find
the words to make conversation with Chandni. He wasn’t well
practised at communicating with the opposite sex, but there was
something about Chandni, something that prevented his mind from
focusing for more than a few seconds and denied him the power of
speech. He needed to say something, anything, to gain her
attention, but it was difficult to think straight when the soft
light from the village houses intermittently illuminated her face,
reminding him just how beautiful she was. Thankfully, Chandni
seemed blissfully unaware of his internal struggle, and with her
hands folded neatly in her lap, she stared into the passing
darkness, her sepia-coloured hair streaming out behind her from the
speed of Lucky’s driving.

‘I’m Arun, by the way,’ he managed eventually. It
wasn’t the most scintillating of openers, but he reasoned that it
was a start. Chandni turned to face him and smiled a beguiling
smile that made Arun’s heart stop.

‘Yes, Hanara told me. I’m Chandni.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ he replied, tipping his head,
afraid of what might happen if he actually extended his hand to
touch Chandni.

‘And you too,’ she said, smiling sweetly again.

She looked up at Arun expectantly, her mesmerising
green eyes barely visible between the long lashes that framed them.
She seemed to be willing Arun to continue their conversation, but
when a few seconds had passed and he had said nothing further, she
turned her face back towards the passing darkness
disappointedly.

It was a few minutes before Arun was able to find
his voice again and, wary of appearing nosy, the words emerged
shakily because of his underlying apprehension.

‘Did you come to the mandir alone?’

‘Oh no, I came with my Bapu-ji, but he is not quite
finished there yet.’

The conversation was stunted and short-lived, but
they were spared any prolonged awkwardness when Lucky pulled up
outside a house that closely resembled his own, and Chandni hastily
hopped out.

‘Thank you for the ride, Lucky,’ she smiled,
standing on the roadside in the dimly lit glare of the
headlights.

‘It is my pleasure, always.’

‘I’ll see you both tomorrow?’

‘Yes, of course. See you tomorrow,’ Hanara answered,
leaning across Lucky to wave goodbye to her friend.

‘Nice to meet you, Arun,’ Chandni added shyly over
her shoulder, as she started towards the house.

‘You too,’ he croaked in response.

The three of them watched until Chandni was safely
inside of her house and, when the door was firmly shut, Lucky began
to chart the course towards home.

‘How did you enjoy the mandir, Arun?’ Hanara cried
over the whir of the rickshaw’s engine.

‘It was great, really interesting,’ he answered
somewhat absent-mindedly, his brain still on the pretty girl that
they had just left behind.

‘A bit different to what you are probably used to at
home, isn’t it?’

‘A little, yes, but in a good way.’

Hanara turned to smile at him, evidently pleased by
his positive responses.

‘Rajubhai Joshi was very impressed by you, I could
tell,’ she added proudly.

‘So were Hanara’s friends. I think you can have your
pick of any wife now,’ quipped Lucky, laughing good-naturedly.

Arun laughed too, recalling the unwarranted
attention that he had received.

‘I don’t think that I will be getting married just
yet, Lucky. Let’s not get carried away.’

‘Why not? You are exactly the right age now, isn’t
it?’

‘Are you kidding me? I’m nineteen; that’s far too
young,’ exclaimed Arun.

‘I'm not kidding. Marriage always happens around
this age in India. It is normal only.’

‘If it’s so normal, then why aren’t you and Hanara
married already?’ teased Arun playfully.

Lucky and Hanara exchanged knowing glances and
Hanara nodded at Lucky, silently authorising him to continue.

‘Because Hanara and I have an agreement; we decided
not to leave Mata-ji alone. Bapu-ji already left … and then you
went with Dr Cathy … if we had gone too, then who would have looked
after Mata-ji? Hanara refused many offers, because if she had
married then she would have had to live with her husband’s family
only. And I didn’t take a wife, because it is not fair to Hanara if
I am married, but she is not, and it would have made more work in
the house.’

‘And now? Now that Mata-ji is gone?’

‘Now I am too old, so I am taking care of Lucky,’
answered Hanara simply.

‘And I am taking care of Hanara,’ concluded Lucky,
shining his crooked smile at his sister.

Arun was humbled by Lucky and Hanara’s dedication,
not only to Mata-ji, but also to each other. Though their small
family had experienced many challenges over the years, none had
been strong enough to divide the two of them. They were a unit, a
whole, bound together by unconditional love and support, and it
made Arun proud to finally be a part of it.