Finding Arun (37 page)

Chandni smiled down at him warmly, her face rosy
with embarrassment from the compliments he had showered upon her,
but Arun wasn’t finished.

‘I think the real thanks goes to you.’

‘For?’

‘For risking Rajubhai Joshi's anger to see me. For
supporting my dreams, even when they mean that we have to be apart.
For being the most beautiful, kind, loving and understanding girl
that I have ever met. And most of all, for believing in me and
believing in us enough to try.’

The smile unexpectedly left Chandni’s face and her
bottom lip began to tremble.

‘I’m really going to miss you, Arun,’ she whispered,
the tears that she had fought so desperately to hold back now
welling up in her eyes.

‘Hey, shh,’ he said, pulling her towards him once
more. ‘I’m going to miss you too, but it’s not always going to be
like this. I will be back and don’t forget we can send each other
letters through Hanara and Lucky.’

‘I know,’ she said sniffling and wiping her cheeks
with the backs of her hands, ‘but it still hurts.’

They sat together in silence once more, absorbing
each other and trying to commit to memory the sight, smell and feel
of the other’s being. It would be a long time before they would be
together again, especially alone, and Arun wanted to memorise every
last inch of Chandni so that he would always be able to picture her
in his mind. Shortly after ten o’clock, they heard the familiar
rattle of Lucky’s rickshaw engine outside, followed by the faint
blast of his horn, and they knew that their time was up.
Disentangling themselves from one another, they walked slowly
towards the door, neither of them wanting the night to end because
of the finality that it would bring. When they reached the door,
Arun took Chandni into his arms one last time and kissed her long
and deep, knowing that he would fall apart the moment that he had
to let her go.

‘I love you, Arun,’ she breathed between his
kisses.

‘I love you too, Chandni,’ he whispered and, eyes
still closed, unable to bear the sadness that he was sure filled
her eyes, he slipped out into the cool night air.

BY the time of Arun’s penultimate day in the village
and his last day of working in the shop, there was still no word
from Prakash, and Arun was forced to resign himself to the fact
that his efforts to save the village had amounted to nothing. The
chances of a victory had been slim, but he had dared to hope and
more importantly to try, which was more than could be said for
Rajubhai Joshi. He was staring lazily out onto the road, waiting
for customers to drop by and provide him with the light
entertainment and distraction that he so enjoyed, when he noticed a
large black vehicle advancing at pace towards the shop. When it
drew closer, he recognised that it was one of the sleek executive
cars that he had often seen pulling up outside the Mayfair Beach
Resort Hotel, ready to chauffeur well-to-do businessmen and
important dignitaries around the city.

The car ground to a halt just short of the shop and,
after a few brief moments, Prakash emerged from the back seat. Arun
felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his heart
began to thump uncomfortably in his chest. For Prakash to come all
the way to the village to see him, it must be important, but he
didn’t know the businessman well enough to determine whether he was
about to receive good or bad news.

‘Good afternoon, Arun,’ he called brightly, waving
as he approached the front of the shop.

‘Good afternoon, Prakash,’ Arun responded, instantly
jumping to his feet, but resisting the urge to demand an immediate
explanation for Prakash’s silence.

‘How have you been?’

‘Fine, and yourself?’ Arun answered through pursed
lips, the suspense now tearing at the insides of his stomach.

‘Not too bad, not too bad. Business going well?’

‘Slow. It’s my last day here today anyway.’

‘Oh?’ answered Prakash with surprise. ‘How
come?’

‘I’m going back to England in a few days. I start my
degree at Oxford in October.’

‘I see. Well that is a shame.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, I mean you won’t be around to enjoy the
delights of the village … now that it looks as though everyone will
be staying put,’ he finished with a smile.

Arun’s eyes immediately lit up and in his haste to
exit the shop he nearly brought the whole thing crashing to the
ground. He fumbled clumsily with the door before smacking his head
on the frame, forgetting to stoop as he rushed out into the yard
and flung his arms around Prakash’s shoulders with gratitude.

‘When did you? How did they? Really?’ he exclaimed
all at once, before remembering who he was talking to and stepping
back to shake Prakash’s hand instead. ‘Thank you. Thank you so
much.’

The rotund gentleman chuckled to himself, amused by
Arun’s bumbling appreciation.

‘There’s no need to thank me, Arun, I really didn’t
do much. I’ll admit that it was a bit tough persuading the team to
consider an alternative site at such late notice, but once they
viewed it, everyone agreed that it was a viable option. We pushed
through a couple of the initial site surveys last week and it looks
as though the land is safe to build on, plus your friend Manoj has
negotiated a very reasonable deal on the plot where the refuge used
to be. The rest of the land is government owned and since there is
nobody currently living around there, the projected construction
and demolition costs are much lower so the bigwigs are pleased
about the savings and the village gets to stay where it is.
Everyone’s a winner.’

‘That’s brilliant,’ breathed Arun, almost with tears
in his eyes. ‘Really Prakash, I can’t thank you enough.’

‘As I said, no need to thank me. Thank you for
having such quick thinking,’ answered Prakash, bowing his head
courteously. ‘I was never really too happy about being responsible
for uprooting a whole village. At least now I can sleep soundly at
night.’

‘I’ll bet.’

‘Listen, I can’t stay unfortunately, but I wanted to
come and tell you the good news in person. Just do me a favour and
keep it to yourself, okay? The team and I only met with Rajubhai
Joshi this morning and I think he is planning to make some sort of
official announcement at the mandir tonight.’

‘No problem at all.’

‘Great. Well, I’d better get going, lots to be done.
Drop me a line when you get back to the UK, it would be good to
hear how you’re getting on,’ said Prakash, extending his hand one
final time.

‘I will,’ began Arun, accepting Prakash’s hand,
‘thanks again … for everything … you have no idea what this will
mean to everyone.’

‘My pleasure.’

Prakash turned on his heel and started back towards
the car. Within a few minutes he had been swallowed up by the
darkness of the car’s blacked-out windows and after a perfectly
executed three-point turn by the driver, the car sped off into the
distance.

Arun could hardly contain his excitement and though
he had promised not to shout it from the rooftops, he felt
compelled to share the news with Hanara immediately. Leaving the
shop unmanned and unlocked, he flounced into the house, where he
found Hanara crouched over a large pot shelling peas.

‘Hey, Arun, who is watching the shop only? I know
it’s your last day, but there is no need for slacking,’ she joked
amicably.

Arun dropped down onto the floor beside her and
watched her at work, an enormous smile plastered across his bronzed
face.

‘What do you want only? It’s very distracting to
have you staring at me like that,’ she grumbled.

When Arun didn’t respond, Hanara paused what she was
doing to look across at him properly, but it was only then that she
registered the inane look on his face.

‘What are you so happy about?’ she demanded,
regarding him suspiciously.

‘Hanara, we did it. The village doesn’t have to
move. They’re going to build the airport where the old Rachna Hari
is,’ he screeched, his voice rising to a crescendo by the time he
had managed to get all of the words out.

‘Are you … are you being serious?’

Hanara’s question didn’t require an answer because
the ridiculous grin on Arun’s face told her everything that she
needed to know. Shrieking with glee, she leapt to her feet, almost
knocking over the pot of peas. She dragged Arun to his feet too
and, hand in hand, they danced a delighted little jig around the
room, lost in their rapture.

‘We need to tell everyone,’ Hanara gushed. ‘Does
Rajubhai Joshi know? We need to tell him!’

‘Yes, he knows, but Hanara you can’t say anything to
anyone. Rajubhai Joshi is going to announce it tonight at the
mandir.’

Hanara clapped her hands together ecstatically,
relieved and still slightly shocked that they would no longer have
to leave their home.

‘Can we tell Lucky?’

‘Of course we can tell Lucky!’

When Lucky returned a few hours later, Hanara and
Arun pounced on him the moment that he entered the house. Overcome
with emotion, Lucky wept openly at the news; the weeks of stress
trying to figure out how to make his job work from the new village
suddenly released by a single revelation. He was full of praise for
Arun’s headstrong determination and it was a joyous moment for them
all as they settled down to dinner in the knowledge that there
would be more dinners in the house to come. A deep sense of
satisfaction pervaded Arun’s soul and he felt proud to have helped
to secure not only a piece of his family’s history, but also the
future of an entire community. Of all the things that he had
achieved in his short life, this was his greatest accomplishment
and the strongest signal to date that he was where he was supposed
to be.

The thought was a bittersweet one and after the
dinner plates had been cleared away, and Lucky and Hanara had
retired to their rooms to dress for the mandir, Arun remained
lounging amongst the cushions lost in thought. Hanara re-emerged
briefly to search for her shoes and was surprised to find Arun
relaxing in the clothes that he had put on earlier that
morning.

‘Aren’t you going to change?’ she chided.

‘Actually I, um, I think I’m going to sit this one
out,’ he said quietly.

‘What do you mean you’re going to sit this one out?’
exclaimed Lucky, smoothing out the length of his tunic as he
emerged from the bedroom.

The siblings regarded Arun quizzically, unable to
comprehend his sudden change in mood.

‘I think I’m going to stay here tonight.’

‘You can’t stay home; we have to celebrate our good
news. Everyone at the mandir will be so pleased; they’ll all want
to see you and to thank you,’ cried Hanara.

‘I know … but I will see them all tomorrow at my
leaving party anyway.’

‘Please come, Arun. It will be our last visit to the
mandir together for a while,’ said Lucky, his eyes wide and
pleading.

‘I want to Lucky, I really do, but I … I just don’t
think that I can face seeing Chandni again. We’ve already said our
goodbyes; it’s too hard. Besides, it’s probably a good idea to
steer clear of Rajubhai Joshi too. He’s not going to be too pleased
that I went behind his back … again.’

‘Of course he will be pleased,’ shrieked Lucky
incredulously. ‘Arun, if you hadn’t gone behind his back, we would
all be halfway across the countryside right now, too far away to
even go to the mandir.’

Arun looked from his brother to his sister and back
again; they looked so pitiful, so scorned by his decision not to
come with them and though he didn’t want to upset them, he knew in
his heart that he simply couldn’t face seeing Chandni.

‘I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t. You go
and I promise that we will have a proper celebration tomorrow.’

Hanara and Lucky nodded their heads grudgingly, but
Arun knew that deep down they understood his predicament. A few
moments later they disappeared through the front door and, in the
silence of the house, Arun found himself alone with his thoughts
once more.

THE next day, Arun and Lucky helped Hanara to
prepare the house for Arun’s farewell party. They had been
expecting a reasonable number of guests anyway, but following
Rajubhai Joshi’s announcement the night before, details of Arun’s
involvement in orchestrating the deal had spread and everybody
wanted the opportunity to thank him and wish him well with his
studies. Hanara spent most of the day cooking, myriad smells
wafting out from the pots and pans that she had left to simmer over
the hearth, whilst Lucky busied himself recording Hindi songs off
the radio to create the perfect party cassette, which he planned to
gift to Arun as a souvenir of his time in India.

All day long the house was a hive of activity and
there was no time to breathe when guests started to stream through
the front door part way through the afternoon. It wasn’t long
before the house buzzed with the sounds of people talking and
laughing, eating and drinking, and Arun barely had two minutes to
himself as guest after guest stopped to thank and congratulate him.
There could be no doubt that he was enjoying himself and it was a
strange feeling, not only to be the centre of attention, but to be
included, celebrated and honoured by the community, when all his
life he’d only ever felt like an awkward outsider looking in on a
world that he was supposedly a part of.

By late afternoon the party was in full swing and
Arun could only look on in amusement while Lucky tried to goad some
of the younger guests into dancing to his favourite song. Just when
he feared that he would be Lucky’s next unfortunate victim, he felt
a soft tap on his shoulder and, relieved by the excuse to move away
from the makeshift dance floor, he turned to see who it was.