Finding Arun (34 page)

‘I know that you will have questions, many of which
I am ill-equipped to answer, therefore I have invited
representatives from both the government and the construction
company that proposes to conduct the work, to attend the mandir in
two days’ time. They will be able to outline the relocation and
compensation processes for you and answer the questions that you
may have.

‘My brothers and sisters, though the loss of our
beloved village is sad, I urge you all to remember that we are more
than the mud and bricks that make up our homes. We are a community,
a family bonded through love and faith, and it is this love and
faith that will see us through. May God bless you all.’

Rajubhai Joshi turned to the shrine and briefly
bowed his head in prayer, before stepping off to one of the
adjoining rooms, leaving the crowd to erupt in outrage.

People began getting to their feet, the distress in
their faces mirrored by their neighbours as they discussed Rajubhai
Joshi’s life-altering revelation. Arun and Lucky struggled to their
feet too and immediately went in search of Hanara. A few moments
later they found her outside on the steps of the mandir, surrounded
by her friends and a few elder women who Arun didn’t recognise.
Strangely, they were virtually silent, talking in hushed tones and,
for the first time since his arrival, none of them paid Arun much
attention when he approached. Hanara pushed her way out of the
circle to join them, her mouth set in a thin line and her eyes dark
and wild with fury.

‘Can you believe it?’ she said in a tone so menacing
that it reminded Arun of the first day that they had met.

‘Can we go home please?’ responded Lucky in the most
melancholy tone that Arun had ever heard him use. ‘I don’t feel
like being around all of these people right now.’

‘Sure, let’s go.’

Hanara waved goodbye to her posse of friends and the
trio made their way back to Mata-ji’s house, a house that in a few
weeks would no longer exist.

Hanara set dinner down before them all and the mood
was subdued, each of them mulling over the events of the evening.
Still famished, Arun eagerly wolfed down the food on his plate,
but, deeply saddened at the prospect of having to leave his home,
Lucky appeared to have taken up the mantle of pushing food
aimlessly around his plate.

‘You must eat, Lucky,’ Hanara chided.

Lucky smiled briefly at her concern, but made no
move to lift food towards his mouth.

‘I can’t believe that you have to move,’ said Arun,
to everyone and no-one at the same time. ‘How can they just force
people from their homes?’

‘Because, what is one small village compared with
the money that they can make?’ answered Hanara bitterly.

‘But what if you refused to leave? What if you just
stayed in your houses and refused to come out?’

‘Even this is not working,’ moaned Lucky, staring
blankly at the space ahead of him, ‘eventually they would send in
the army to remove us; it’s happened before, in other states.’

‘What about the new place? Do you know where it
is?’

‘Yes, it’s miles away, even further from Puri. When
they talked to us the first time, it sounded okay; we would have a
new house and a small plot of land, and we could build the shop
again next door. But it is really too far away for Lucky to drive
to Puri each day. He would hardly be making anything after the fuel
costs.’

‘Well surely that’s something that they can’t
ignore? That’s his livelihood,’ cried Arun indignantly.

‘They told me that once the new airport was built,
there would be even more business for me, so it didn’t matter,’
answered Lucky, sounding utterly unconvinced.

The mood was sombre and though Arun was desperately
racking his brains for a way to help his siblings, or at the very
least provide some words of comfort and reassurance, his mind kept
being drawn back to thoughts of his impending departure. The fact
that he had not yet shared his decision to leave with them weighed
heavily on his mind and as though she possessed a sixth sense,
Hanara conveniently broached the subject for him.

‘Have you given any more thought to what you are
going to do, Arun? Will you be moving to the new house with us?’
she asked hopefully.

Arun looked guiltily from Hanara to Lucky and back
again. He dreaded the thought of telling them that he was leaving
more than leaving itself and to do so, right when they had just
been told that they would be losing their home, seemed almost
cruel.

‘Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I think we’ve all had
enough excitement for one night,’ he replied, brushing off the
question.

‘But you have made a decision?’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Then why not share it with us now only? It is not
going to be any different tomorrow, is it?’ quipped Hanara
matter-of-factly.

‘No, of course not. I just thought that –’

‘You’re leaving, isn’t it?’ interrupted Lucky. ‘It’s
okay, you can say it.’

Arun nodded and watched painfully while Lucky and
Hanara’s faces fell at the confirmation of their suspicions.

‘I have to. It’s the only way. I can’t afford to
stay, but at least if I go now then I’ll be able to come back some
day.’

Arun searched his siblings' eyes, pleading for
understanding, and though their sadness was tangible, he knew that
they appreciated what a difficult decision it had been. Rising from
her seat, Hanara crawled across the floor and circled her arms
around Arun’s shoulders.

‘
We will miss you.
I
will miss you,’ she whispered.

‘I will miss you both too, but I will come back,
whenever I can.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

It was the most heartfelt promise that Arun had ever
made. India was where he wanted to be, it was where his heart
belonged and whatever came to pass, whatever he had to do, he was
going to return as soon as he could.

A FEW nights later Arun returned to the mandir to
anxiously await the arrival of the unwelcome guests. The main hall
was packed to capacity with an even greater number of villagers
than had turned out to hear Rajubhai Joshi’s initial announcement.
The noise that the crowd generated made it almost impossible for
Arun to hear his own thoughts, let alone anyone's conversations,
but when a long line of men dressed sharply in well-tailored suits
followed Rajubhai Joshi to the front of the room, a hush fell over
the audience at once.

There were five men in total, each as arrogant and
pompous looking as the next, and their smug smiles were just
visible beneath the thickly grown beards that covered the lower
halves of their faces. They seated themselves ceremoniously on the
rickety wooden chairs that the committee had laid out for them and
Arun took an instant dislike to the way in which they looked down
on the people of his village, in a manner that had nothing to do
with the height that the chairs afforded them over their audience.
Rajubhai Joshi remained standing and when he approached the front
of the crowd, the last vestiges of conversation ceased until there
was pin-drop silence inside the mandir.

Never one to forget his manners, in his skilled mix
of English and Oriya, he thanked everyone for coming and proceeded
to introduce the uptight band of men seated behind him. The first
was a parliamentary representative, presumably present to counter
claims that the government were putting rupees before the wellbeing
of their own people, and the next three were representatives of
Orissa's state government, but it was the final gentleman that
captured Arun’s attention, his rotund form preventing his suit from
fully buttoning.

‘And lastly, this is Mr Prakash Solanki of the firm
Solanki & Partners. Mr Solanki’s construction firm will be
managing both the demolition and construction phases of the
project.’

‘I know him,’ hissed Arun, deftly nudging Lucky in
the ribs with his elbow.

‘Ow,’ he whispered back through clenched teeth, ‘who
do you know?’

‘Prakash, the construction guy. I met him on the
plane on the way here.’

‘Is he a friend of yours?’

‘No, not exactly.’

‘Good, because he is the one who’s going to knock
down our house,’ quipped Lucky irritably.

They listened intently whilst each of the men
personally introduced themselves and explained their particular
interest in the project, using a curious mix of Hindi and English,
not too dissimilar from the way in which Rajubhai Joshi had
addressed the crowd. The gentlemen spoke in order of ranking, the
parliamentary representative beginning by praising the village for
making a sacrifice for the greater good of the state, and
ultimately the country. He had a fondness for figures, but his
projections of future visitor numbers and the revenue associated
with them impressed no-one.

The state government officials were a little more
mindful of their audience’s concerns, outlining details of the new
village and trying to upsell its features to the uninspired crowd.
They also discussed the arrangements for financial compensation:
all families would receive a lump sum, livestock and assistance
with the construction of their new homes. In addition, the state
had agreed to pay for the existing mandir to be partially
disassembled and moved to its new location, and for a subsidy to be
paid to businesses, including Hanara’s shop, to aid with
reconstruction. On reflection Arun didn’t think that the packages
sounded too bad, but one look at Lucky’s face told him that his
brother did not feel the same way. A brief question and answer
session followed the state representatives’ presentation; brief,
because the villagers had already resigned themselves to their fate
and having lost their appeal, there was a shared sentiment amongst
the crowd that nothing they said or did would change whatever plans
the state had already committed to.

Finally, Prakash stood to begin the most sensitive
part of the panel’s presentation. Arun listened with interest
whilst he explained how construction of the new settlement would be
completed in phases, with the erection of their new homes
constituting the first phase and beginning in approximately ten
days. The new settlement was to be modelled on the existing one to
‘minimise disruption and unfamiliarity for residents’, and on
completion they would be required to vacate their existing homes
immediately. In the second phase, the mandir would be moved and
only once this was successfully completed would the existing
village be razed to the ground, enabling construction of the
airport to begin.

The last statement caused a small furore amongst the
audience as devoutly religious members of the community angrily
voiced their grievances surrounding a disruption to their daily
worship rituals. Sensing the rising tension, Rajubhai Joshi was
quickly forced to step in and reassure them all that he had
discussed the plans at length, concluding that the approach
selected ensured that their primary need for housing was addressed
first. The crowd seemed to calm down at his words and Prakash
himself appeared visibly relieved, but ripples of discontent could
still occasionally be heard sweeping through the hall whilst he
concluded his presentation and resumed his seat.

When the final question and answer session was over,
both the panel and the villagers adjourned to the two adjoining
rooms, where some of the younger girls were serving hot chai.
Securing a cup each, Arun and Lucky retired to the corner of the
room, Lucky still seething over the content of the panel’s
presentations.

‘It is ridiculous. How am I supposed to make any
money travelling two hours to Puri each day and night?’ he
exclaimed, sucking his tea through clenched teeth.

‘Why didn’t you say anything during the question and
answer session then, Lucky?’

‘What’s the point only? They aren’t listening to us;
coming here in their fancy suits with their fancy words. They don’t
really care – it is acting only.’

‘But if you don’t speak up, how will they know what
your concerns are? How the plans affect your livelihood is a big
deal; they can’t ignore something like that.’

‘I have told them already, right at the beginning,’
said Lucky, growing increasingly exasperated by Arun’s naïvety.
‘They don’t care about my money, as long as they are getting
theirs. If they cared, then they wouldn’t be moving us so far away
from Puri.’

Arun hated seeing Lucky behave so negatively and it
was clear that his brother was quite put out by the whole ordeal,
but he couldn’t help feeling that his refusal to voice his concerns
made the absence of an adequate resolution partly his own
fault.

‘I’m just saying, I think you ought to have raised
your points again today. All of the important decision makers were
here; you never know what might have happened.’

‘If you are so convinced that they are listening,
then why don’t you go and talk to them?’

‘Lucky –’

‘Go on! Go and talk to your friend. Ask him if he
knows or even cares that he’s knocking down your family house,’
challenged Lucky angrily.

‘Who’s your friend?’ queried Hanara, joining them
from across the room.

‘He’s not my friend,’ corrected Arun.

‘The fat one who was talking at the end,’ retorted
Lucky childishly.

‘You know him?’

‘
I wouldn’t say that I
know
him; I met him on the plane on the way
here.’

‘Arun is going to talk to him about how this is
affecting my job and to see if they will move us closer to the city
instead of farther away from it, isn’t it Arun?’

Feeling somewhat put on the spot by Lucky’s
adolescent behaviour and on account of the expectant enthusiasm
that was written all over Hanara’s face, Arun nodded reluctantly
and, placing his empty cup on a ledge, set off in search of
Prakash.