After the Storm (9 page)

Uncleji’s Tuck Shop was extremely busy that morning. Apparently, toast and boiled eggs that smelt like rotten eggs had been served in the school refectory. One look at the eggs and the girls had made a beeline for Uncleji’s. In contrast, the tuck shop smelt of a strange mixture of omelettes, sausages, bacon, coffee, freshly baked cakes and scones, parathas and pickle. Strange mixture, yes, but appetising enough.

Gurpreet clicked his fingers at Bahadur and thumped his table. ‘What happened to my tea? Are you getting it from Assam?’

‘Two seconds, sahib, just give me a minute,’ Bahadur replied.

Yawning, Gurpreet looked at Mili and Vicky sitting across the table. How did that Vicky always manage to look so alive? Especially in the morning – she looked as refreshing and bubbly as a freshly churned glass of lassi.

‘What are you reading?’ he asked as she laughed again.

‘Shakespeare.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
,’ she replied. ‘This Bottom is so silly,’ she giggled.

‘I think Shakespeare as a playwright is highly overrated,’ said Gurpreet. ‘If you wish to study plays, read Ibsen or Shaw. Their work is much more relevant to today’s society. If you look at the character of Ibsen’s Nora in
A Doll’s House
, or Eliza Doolittle in
Pygmalion
—’

‘I’m impressed,’ drawled a familiar voice, clapping his hands.

It was Raven. Standing there with his arms folded, looking down at the three of them. Gurpreet cringed. Damn, he should have known. What was he doing here? Trust him to interrupt just when he was trying to impress Vicky.

‘I agree, sir,’ said Vicky. ‘Gurpreet, I had no idea you knew so much.’

A pleased smile hovered over Gurpreet’s face as he shrugged his shoulders, pretending to be unaffected by the compliment.

‘Why don’t you come to school tomorrow and give a lecture to my girls on plays and playwrights? I’m sure they’re bored of my teaching and would welcome a change,’ said Raven.

‘Yes, sir, that’s a brilliant idea,’ chirped Vicky.

Gurpreet looked at her and wiped his brow. His smile had vanished. He had to get out of this. ‘But the principal?’ he asked lamely.

‘I’ll get permission from her,’ replied Raven. ‘Don’t worry about that.’

‘Oh, what the devil. This sounds like fun,’ said Vicky.

Raven touched Gurpreet’s shoulder lightly. ‘That’s settled. Tomorrow, ten o’clock sharp. See you then.’ So saying, he walked off, leaving Gurpreet staring after him, fuming and squirming. How he hated that Angrez. Especially after what Mother had told him about Raven’s father.

Gurpreet looked at his watch and hastened his steps. He had spent all night preparing for the lecture and now he was going to spoil it by being late. As he reached the school building, he looked up and found Raven pacing the corridors. He glanced at his watch again. Damn, he was ten minutes late. ‘Morning, sir,’ he grinned at Raven as he followed him into the classroom.

He stumbled as he got up on to the rostrum.

‘Have you been drinking?’ Raven asked under his breath.

‘Oh no, sir,’ replied Gurpreet.

Raven proceeded to introduce him to the class. Then, with an ‘All yours now’, he went and stood at the back of the classroom.

Gurpreet nodded at him, then smiled at the class. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow.
Pull yourself together, Gurpreet. You can’t teach a bunch of girls and you want to fight for India’s freedom? Stop being a chicken.

He picked up a piece of chalk from the chalk box and broke it as he spoke. ‘Hello, everyone. As Prof. Raven just said, I have come to speak to you about …’ He picked up another chalk as he lectured and broke it.

Then another. And another. But soon he had got over his initial nervousness and was speaking confidently. Why, all the girls were listening to him with rapt attention. Even Vicky. Success.

At the end of the lecture Raven began to clap his hands. The whole class joined in. Gurpreet gave him a triumphant smile and winked at Vicky.

‘Like I said yesterday, I’m impressed,’ said Raven. ‘I knew you could do it.’ Then he addressed his students before leaving. ‘Class is dismissed now. Don’t be late tomorrow.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the students drawled as he left the classroom. They began to crowd around the desk, plying Gurpreet with endless questions. The room was filled with a buzz of voices.

After most of the students had left, Gurpreet looked around the classroom. Vicky and Mili were still there. He walked up to Vicky and said, ‘Ma’am, aren’t you going to say something? Everybody was full of praise …’

‘It was—’ Mili started to speak but Vicky interrupted.

‘Umm …’ she said, as she deliberately looked him over – from his turban to the two white streaks on his waistcoat where he had wiped his chalky fingers, the patch on the kurta, the dirty pyjamas and the old slippers.

Gurpreet grimaced and rubbed a hand consciously over his stubble.

‘I might have said something if you weren’t dressed as a vagabond,’ replied Vicky haughtily. She looked him over again and said, ‘Your appearance spoilt the whole show,’ and walked off, followed by Mili.

The next morning, Gurpreet was slouched over his desk at home, when Jatin entered his room.

‘Gurpreet? You’re drinking? That too in the morning?’ he said, alarmed.

‘Shh, shut the door, you moron. Maji will hear.’

‘But why are you drinking? Is something the matter?’

Gurpreet did not answer but looked at the plate of green chillies. He picked up one, twirled it around before putting it in his mouth, then took a sip of whisky. Then he bit into another chilli. He felt it explode in his mouth. Eating green chillies like this with whisky gave him a kick. Like a bomb exploding in the face of an Angrez.

‘Bloody Angrez,’ he muttered, twirling a green chilli.

‘Who? Raven Sir? Why do you hate him so? He has always been good to us.’

‘Jatin, you don’t know what I know. All these firangis are brutes. Animals. Bloody palefaces.’

‘That’s not true, Preeto,’ replied Jatin. ‘You have no idea how much he has helped Vidushi.’

‘He wasn’t helping Vidushi, Jatin,’ said Gurpreet. ‘He just wanted to convert her. That’s what they want to do with all of us – either destroy our religion or convert us. That’s why he sent her to that orphanage run by Catholic nuns. Now, how is the orphanage different from the ashram?’

‘I’ll tell you how it’s different,’ replied Jatin. ‘She doesn’t have to live like a starving, shivering beggar any more. She has proper clothes to wear and food to eat. She doesn’t have to shave her head. Do you know how humiliating it is for a woman to have to shave her head? And most important – she can study again.’

‘How do
you
know all these things?’ asked Gurpreet.

‘I just do,’ Jatin answered softly.

Gurpreet gulped down another mouthful of whisky.

‘Look, if you don’t stop drinking, I’m going,’ said Jatin.

Gurpreet grabbed his hands. ‘Jatin, my yaara, I need your help. Will you come with me to the shops?’

‘What? You? You want to go shopping? You’re drunk, Gurpreet, I’m leaving.’

‘No. I’m serious. I need better clothes. That chit of a girl … that Vicky. How dare she taunt me?’

Jatin smiled as he fiddled with the gramophone that stood on a table near Gurpreet’s bed. ‘Are you in love?’

Gurpreet finished the remaining drink in his glass. He sniffed. Even his clothes smelt of whisky. He needed a bath.

‘I don’t know. But I’ve never felt this way for a girl before.’

Jatin chuckled. ‘First of all, you need a good shave. And since how many days have you not washed these pyjamas?’

‘Hey, stop playing mother. I’ve already got one to nag me.’

‘You want me to help you or not?’ said Jatin pulling Gurpreet to his feet. ‘First stop – Kallu Barber.’

Gurpreet was seated on a bench outside Uncleji’s Tuck Shop the following afternoon. He was rolling up the sleeves of his new shirt. It had been starched and felt uncomfortable. He cursed under his breath as he saw Jatin strolling towards him. Scoundrel. Couldn’t he leave
him alone for a few minutes? He hoped Vicky hadn’t eaten in the school refectory and would come to the tuck shop.

‘Waiting for someone, Preeto?’ Jatin asked with a sheepish smile.

‘Not at all. Just enjoying the good weather. Kishangarh is beautiful in summer.’

‘You got all dressed up to admire nature?’ Jatin asked with a grin.

‘Look, I’ll give you my turban if you keep quiet for a few minutes,’ begged Gurpreet, touching his turban.

‘You didn’t shave your moustache?’

‘I shaved my beard,’ said Gurpreet, glaring at him. ‘That’s good enough.’

‘Relax, I was just curious. Keep cool, Preeto,’ he said as Gurpreet shook his fist at him.

‘Oh, she’s finally here,’ exclaimed Gurpreet.

‘And we weren’t waiting for anyone, right, Preeto?’

Gurpreet didn’t answer. He was too busy shining his shoes with the back of his trousers. Then he got up and walked over to the two girls.

‘So how are you two?’ he asked self-consciously, feeling Vicky’s eyes on him. ‘Shall we go into the tuck shop and have something?’

The girls nodded and walked into the canteen. He followed them. Vicky turned to look at him and their eyes met. She was smiling. He knew Mili and Jatin were all ears, so he refrained from saying anything and gestured with his hands instead – how do I look? Vicky pretended to push a lock of hair behind her ear and gesticulated with her fingers – perfect.

Gurpreet grinned. ‘Two minutes, I’ll just be back,’ he mumbled as he rushed out of the canteen. He jumped gleefully over the bench outside. Then he looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Vicky and crashed into a group of students.

A few days later, Vicky stood near the fence pretending to look for something. It was the common fence between the STH playing field and MP College football field. She watched warily as Gurpreet kicked the ball hard. It bounced off the fence and Gurpreet ran towards it. As his feet shuffled the ball around, he slipped a note into Vicky’s hand before kicking the ball back to his team. Vicky looked around the field furtively. No one had noticed. Miss Agatha was busy giving instructions to the other students. She opened the crumpled piece of paper in her hand and began to read it.
Everything to proceed according to plan. Will be waiting for you at the end of Hide-and-Seek Road at 4 o’clock. Don’t be late.

Vicky looked at Mili who was busy playing badminton. She pursed her lips. Coaxing Mili wasn’t going to be easy today. She gestured to Mili to stop
playing and pulled her to the edge of the field, behind a deodar tree. She showed her the note. ‘I met Gurpreet and Jatin yesterday,’ she whispered. ‘We’re going for a picnic. This evening. It’s all planned out.’

‘No, Vicky, we’re not going.’

‘Come on, Mili. Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud.’

‘If you want to go, you go, but I’m not coming.’

‘Mili, this is our last chance. To go for a picnic. The monsoons will soon be here. And after monsoons it’ll be too cold.’

‘But how can I forget Prof. Raven has given us a final warning? And if this time we get caught, he’s not going to forgive us.’

‘We won’t get caught. The plan is foolproof. We’ve worked out the details. At four o’clock we leave. After the last class.’

‘I don’t know …’ Mili answered dubiously. ‘But we have to be back in the hostel before eight,’ she added.

‘We won’t be coming back to the hostel.’

‘What?’

‘The boys have booked some rooms,’ said Vicky, pushing back her glasses. ‘In a nearby rest house.’

‘You’re crazy, Vicky. You think the warden is going to give us permission?’

‘We don’t need her permission. We just sign the register. That we’re off to our local guardians.’

‘I see. But what if she finds out?’

‘She won’t, Mili. Half the boarders are going out this evening. She’s not going to call up each one to find out if they’re really there.’

Mili did not answer. She seemed engrossed in looking
at a bulbul that was trilling at the top of its voice from the upper branches of the tree. ‘All right, then,’ she finally said.

Vicky could see she still wasn’t convinced. She put her arms around her neck. Mili did not turn around to face her friend but busied herself in plucking the needle-like leaves of the tree.

‘Come on, Mili. Be a sport. Learn to live for the moment.’ Vicky stopped speaking and dribbled the ball that had rolled over and stopped at her feet. She threw it back to its owner. She continued, ‘That was one lesson Mummum learnt after Papa’s death – to live for the moment. When Papa died, she had many regrets. There were holidays they’d planned but never went to. Promises made but never kept … She keeps telling us – do everything. Never have regrets …’

‘But if we get caught, I’ll never ever listen to you again.’

‘You two, what are you up to?’ called out Miss Agatha, who had spotted them behind the tree.

‘Coming, miss,’ Mili replied and picked up her badminton racquet.

Later that day, Vicky and Mili rushed to their room as soon as the last class was over. Throwing their books on the bed, they began to get dressed. Vicky pulled on a pair of jodhpurs while Mili hurriedly pulled out a pink silk kurta from the wardrobe.

Vicky watched Mili brush her hair as she ran a quick comb through her own. ‘You’ve inherited your mother’s smooth skin and silky hair,’ she said. ‘While I have Mummum’s horrible hair and Papa’s weak eyes,’ she
sulked. She tried to uncurl a lock of hair. But as soon as she let go, it curled right back – ping. ‘I wish I had long, straight hair like you,’ she sighed.

Mili laughed. ‘If you had long hair, it would always be matted like that of the three witches in
Macbeth
. Birds would build nests and lay eggs in them and you wouldn’t even come to know.’

Vicky scowled and stuck out her tongue at Mili.

‘I used to love watching Ma get dressed for dinner every evening,’ said Mili, looking at herself in the mirror and fiddling with her earrings. ‘It was such an elaborate affair. Five or six maids would hold out her outfits one by one and Ma would take her time deciding which one to wear. Then once the sari had been selected, the same procedure would be carried out for the jewellery.’

‘I remember,’ replied Vicky. ‘I was there on a couple of occasions. But hurry now. The boys must be waiting.’

Just as they were about to step out of the room, footsteps were heard in the corridor.

Mili looked at her and raised a brow.

‘Quick. Hide,’ Vicky whispered.

They hid behind the curtain. It was Angel. She came into the room and started packing a bag. Vicky remembered – she had mentioned that morning that she was going to pay her aunt a visit that weekend. She was humming a song completely out of tune. Mili began to giggle. Angel looked around. Vicky quickly covered Mili’s mouth with her hand and held her breath.

Vicky let go of Mili and let out a long sigh of relief as Angel left the room. Clutching their bags, the two friends
quickly signed the register, then made their way to the Hide-and-Seek Road. The boys were waiting in a jeep at the end of the dirt track. Gurpreet was behind the wheel and grinned happily at Vicky as she got into the jeep and sat down beside him. He looked back to make sure Mili and Jatin were seated, then with a shout of ‘Sat Sri Akal’ started the engine.

The four of them chattered and joked for a while. But soon the hum of the jeep’s engine and the weariness that comes with attending boring lectures for an entire week lulled Vicky into a deep sleep. She was awakened when the jeep crunched to an abrupt halt. Opening her eyes, she saw before her a vast expanse of undulating land. Little smooth hillocks, unmarred by stones and rocks and covered with grass as soft as moss, rolled into one another.

Jumping off the jeep, Vicky took off her shoes and padded over the grass barefoot. She looked at Mili and winked, her eyes flashing underneath her broad-rimmed glasses. ‘Shall we?’ she asked.

‘Yes, let’s,’ Mili replied with a grin.

The two of them darted off to the top of a smooth hillock. Climbing right to the top, they lay down on their sides. Then closing their eyes, they went rolling down the hill like Jack and Jill, right down to the bottom. They sat up laughing and spluttering. Vicky dusted the mud and grass from her clothes and looked at Mili who was holding her head to get over the dizziness. She smiled as the boys came towards them, carrying the picnic hamper, rugs and blankets.

Spreading a rug, she sat down and looked around.
She noticed a couple of horses tethered to a nearby tree. Their faces were buried in the chaff bags tied around their necks. Eventually they’d come up with a mouthful, which they chewed lazily. Vicky’s eyes lit up and she pushed back her glasses. ‘Anyone coming riding and exploring these hills with me, before it gets too dark?’ she asked.

‘Me, me, me,’ shouted Gurpreet, putting up his hand.

‘Put your hand down, Preeto, we’re not in class,’ said Jatin.

Vicky laughed as Gurpreet pulled a face at Jatin, put his forefinger over his lips and mimicked, ‘We’re not in class.’

‘Anyone else?’ she asked, her eyes roving over the other two.

They shook their heads.

‘No, you two go ahead,’ said Jatin.

‘Both of you are so lazy,’ said Vicky as Gurpreet pulled her to her feet.

‘What if the owners of the horses come back before you do?’ asked Mili, a frown creasing her forehead.

‘Just make up an excuse,’ replied Vicky. Patting the horse confidently, she swung her leg across its back. She loved horses. She had been riding them ever since she was five. Riding came to her as easily as eating, sleeping or playing truant from class.

She pointed to a hill in the distance. ‘Let’s go there,’ she said as she kicked the horse. Soon they were galloping towards it. They got off the horses when they reached the top. With a look of awe on their faces, they sauntered towards a jutting piece of rock on the edge of
the hill. Gurpreet whistled. From that vantage point, they could see for miles and miles around. A river meandered down the hill surrounded by lush vegetation on either side. Cottages and fields could be discerned in the valley below. Cars no bigger than toys in a doll’s house could be seen on the road. And beyond the valley were a chain of mountains – purple and formidable.

As she sat down on the rock, Vicky took off her glasses. ‘What the devil!’ she exclaimed. ‘This place is amazing.’ As she wiped her glasses, a mist slowly began to descend on them. Within minutes the entire place was engulfed in a fog so thick that all Vicky could see was Gurpreet and the rock they were sitting on. It was as though they were sitting at the end of the world. Nothing existed beyond that rock, which seemed to be hanging in mid-air. Like when she was little and used to think the earth was flat and if she kept walking on and on and on she would reach the very end.

Just then a vulture flew over their heads and they ducked. And in a split second, the atmosphere had turned eerie. The vulture was circling their heads as though portending some evil and Vicky got a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. She shook her head. Since when had she become superstitious like Mili?

She was about to put on her glasses, when Gurpreet pulled them out of her hands.

‘You have such beautiful eyes,’ he said. ‘Why do you hide them behind these hideous Gandhi spectacles?’

‘My eyes are very weak. Inherited it from Papa. I was born with the sight of a seventy-year-old. I’ve worn glasses since the age of two.’

‘Really?’

Vicky nodded, her mind far away. One of her earliest memories was of waking up at night in her room, frightened. She must have been three or maybe four. It was summer and Mummum had left the window open. Her bed was right next to the window. She could hear the leaves of the trees rustling in the breeze outside, but couldn’t see a thing. She groped for her glasses, but couldn’t find them. Ayah had told her a ghost story that night and the trees were now assuming the shape of ghosts and witches. And then she heard another sound – the crickets. And then a flapping sound. A bat. It made her sit up and scream. Papa was beside her in a trice. ‘Relax, princess, it was just a dream,’ he whispered, as he carried her to his room. Clinging to him, she gradually drifted off to sleep. She didn’t know then that it was the last time she would be sleeping with him. The next day Mummum moved her bed to Claudia’s room, much to her big sister’s annoyance.

Vicky sighed and plucked at the moss growing on the rock. ‘You know, Gurpreet … I still remember what Papa smelt like when I slept with him the last time,’ she said, with a shaky laugh. ‘He died a few months after.’ She swallowed and her voice changed, but she carried on speaking. ‘I used to feel very secure. Sleeping in his powerful arms. They felt like a protective shield around me.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper. ‘I’ve never felt secure. After he died.’

Gurpreet covered her hand with his and gently caressed it. ‘What did he die of?’ he asked softly.

‘He died in an accident. Where he worked.’ She got
up abruptly. Suddenly she felt very self-conscious. She had revealed more about herself than was necessary. ‘I think we’d better go back and join the rest,’ she said.

‘Yes, I think we should. Else they might start getting worried.’

They did not speak much after that. Vicky was grateful for the silence. And their friendship had been permanently sealed by the intimacy they had just shared. They tethered the horses to the tree where they had found them, then walked hand in hand down the hill to where the others were. By the time they reached Jatin and Mili, they were talking again and laughing quietly.

Jatin winked at Gurpreet and said, ‘Someone’s looking cosy.’

‘Aren’t they?’ Mili enthused. ‘Won’t it be great if they fall in love?’

‘Stop your nonsense, Mili. We were just riding and chatting,’ said Vicky.

Gurpreet gave a loud sigh. Holding his hand theatrically over his heart he leant close to Mili. ‘But when art thou going to give me thy heart?’

‘Behave yourself, Preet,’ Mili said, blushing and giggling. ‘Everybody’s looking at us.’

‘Preet!’ cried Gurpreet. ‘Did everyone hear? She called me Preet. Say it again. It sounds so romantic coming from your lips.’

Mili shook her head in exasperation as everybody guffawed.

‘Stop flirting with both the girls,’ said Jatin, as he pulled Gurpreet to his feet. ‘At least leave one for me.’

‘Shut up, you two,’ said Vicky, rubbing her hands
together. It was getting a little nippy. She watched the boys trundle towards the trees in search of firewood. A syce appeared from the opposite direction and made his way towards the horses. He untethered them and led them away.

‘One thing I really like about Kishangarh …’ Mili was saying.

‘What?’ Vicky asked, as she watched the horses disappear behind a cluster of chinar trees.

‘There aren’t any mosquitoes here. I could never dream of sitting outside like this in Mohanagar and not be plagued by them.’

Vicky laughed. ‘Yeah, your hands and face used to get covered with those little reddish bumps.’

‘You remember the smoking incense that used to be lit every evening in the palace in silver urns? That the servants would carry from room to room? It was to keep the mosquitoes out.’

‘Really? I thought they were for the evening prayer—’ Vicky stopped speaking as the boys were back with some branches, brambles, twigs and dry leaves. She got busy helping them light a bonfire. As the fumes began to rise, the strong smell of smoke filled their nostrils and began to choke them. They wheezed and coughed and blinked back the tears. After a while the leaves began to crackle, the smoke died down and was replaced by a roaring fire.

Edging towards the hamper, Gurpreet said, ‘C’mon, let’s have some food, I’m starving. Girls, get busy.’