Where the Secret Lies (18 page)

Arianna did not know what to
make of this strange conversation. What should she say? She continued to watch the
maid as she worked and the more she observed, the more familiar she looked but
she didn’t understand why.

 
‘I live in a shanty house,’ the maid
volunteered. ‘My husband and I have eight children.’

‘That’s nice.’ This conversation
was getting stranger.
 

The maid became silent and began
to dust the curtain. Dust moat flew in every direction, as if dancing.

‘I see you many times on the
lone corridor, especially near the door,’ the maid said.

‘What do you know about it?’
Arianna asked, excitement sparking.

‘Many things, I can tell you a
lot.’

How was this possible? Arianna
tried to find out more about this maid and no one could tell her anything about
her. No one had seen her, not now and not ever...then how...?

‘How do you know about the
door?’ she asked.

‘I grew up in Lucknow. I used to
work here many, many years. It is like my home,’ explained the maid.

‘Do you know anything about a
certain door?’ Arianna quizzed her.

‘You are speaking about the
closed door...you will find answers inside and the spirit will be happy...’

 
‘A spirit, you mean a ghost?’

‘A ghost, a spirit, a presence –
it doesn’t make any difference what name you use,’ the maid said. ‘She is sad.
She tells me things – we talk.’

‘You talk to the spirit?’
Arianna began to laugh. ‘You are joking. You had me fooled!’

But the maid wasn’t laughing. ‘You
big people don’t understand our life. You laugh at our tales. You do not believe
in folk stories because they tell the truth and you are scared to hear it. Why
do you want to listen to lies?’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to
hurt you,’ said Arianna quickly.

‘Her name is Anjali.’

Anjali! Could it be the same...?

‘She talks to me, she tells me
her fears and the dreams she had.’ The maid became excited. ‘Come with me, I
will show you!’

‘Show me what?’ said Arianna, startled
by the sudden change of emotion.

Arianna followed the maid to the
corridor and saw the door was once again open.

‘How did...?’ she asked.

The maid smiled. Arianna
followed her into the room. The dust was no longer present and the air smelled
fresh. The maid proceeded to a shelf and took a box down. She searched inside.
At last, she brought out a tired looking diary and handed it to Arianna.

‘Whose diary is this?’

‘Anjali wrote in her diary every
day,’ said the maid. Her mood changed, she was now tearful. ‘She wants you to
read it.’

‘I am not sure...it is
personal...’ Arianna objected.

A cold breeze blew in and the
light flickered.

Arianna looked up in wonder and
the maid beamed.

‘She wants you to read it,’ she
said again.

‘How can you be sure?’ asked
Arianna astounded.

The room darkened and Arianna’s
head swam. The maid seemed to fade or did she imagine? Her vision blurred and
throat tightened. She tried to speak but no words emerged. Her eyes closed...

Arianna awoke to find herself under the blanket. The
darkness had vanished...oh what a dream! But it seemed so real.

Arianna, preoccupied with her
thoughts, she didn’t hear her name being called until a few seconds later. She
peered out from the blanket and screamed.

‘Oh my God, this is not real!’

‘Ari, you are not dreaming. I am
here. Believe me. Slap me,’ Jai held his hand out.

Jai
was
here but he should be in London! No, she
must
be dreaming.

‘Is it really you?’ she stared
at him long and hard.

‘Come here buddy,’ Jai took his
best friend into a bear hug. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Arianna hugged him back, still
unable to believe Jai was in front of her. She took in the familiar perfume and
for the first time in many days, she felt safe and happy.

Arianna glanced down and saw it,
she gasped. That was not a dream after all. Anjali’s diary lay on the bed,
opened.

ANJALI

TWENTY-THREE

Anjali opened her diary and began to write.

She and her children have moved into my home. Mohan ji insisted even
when I refused. Why would he not let her and the children go? They are not
welcome here! I told Mohan ji to find them another house to live in and I will
support him but not this, I cannot live in the same house as she.

Mohan denied my compromise; he wants ‘his family’ to live together. She
is his wife and they are his children, he cannot banish them from him. Mohan ji
requested I call her didi (sister) but that is impossible. I may be his second
wife but I will not be his mistress and her children – they are intolerable, ill
behaved, and rude! How can I let my sweet daughters be near them? I dread to
think what harm they could cause my girls. Oh God, why are you showing me these
days? I would rather be dead!

This is unbearable. I must do something.

Anjali hid the diary underneath
her mattress. The time was two in the morning and she was unable to sleep. The
events of the previous day returned to her...

‘Anjali, I have a business meeting in Jaipur. I would like
you to look after Tehzeeb; will you do this for me?’ Mohan looked deep into
Anjali’s eyes. Of course, she could not refuse.

Before Mohan left, he allocated bedrooms
for Tehzeeb and her children.

 
‘Mohan ji, we can sleep in one room, there is
no need for more,’ Tehzeeb said.

Anjali scoffed, Tehzeeb was
playing games with her husband. She wanted Mohan ji to herself – she was
jealous.

She listened to their
conversation from the upstairs corridor, which overlooked the courtyard.
Tehzeeb spoke loud and clear, as if she knew Anjali was listening.

 
‘Tehzeeb, you do not need to sleep on uncomfortable
beds anymore. You are a wealthy Memsahib now, you deserve this,’ Mohan said.

‘When will you be back ji?’ she
asked him.

‘This meeting is important. I
will be back in a four days. Don’t worry; Anjali will look after your needs.’

‘But ji, didi (sister) doesn’t
like me...’

Mohan sighed. ‘You call her
sister yet she cannot return your affection...’ Mohan embraced her. ‘She will
come round, she will have to.’

Anjali’s eyes flashed with
fury.
 
She was not Tehzeeb’s keeper; she
did not volunteer to keep her happy and comfortable.

Mohan listened as Arianna objected.

 
‘I...Mohan ji, why should I be a slave to her?
Why should I run errands for her?’ Anjali was furious.

‘I am not asking you to be her
maid,’ said Mohan softly. ‘All I ask is some cooperation. She does not know this
haveli as you or I. This arrangement is an adjustment for her as well as you.
My love, please do make this difficult for either of us.’

Anjali turned her back to him. Mohan
parted her long hair to one side and kissed her neck. Instantly aroused, Anjali
melted under his touch. She turned to face him.

‘That is not fair,’ she mumbled.

Mohan smiled and kissed her
lips.

‘Now be good. I will be back as
soon I can be.’

‘Didi, the children are cold. Can I have more blankets?’
Tehzeeb knocked on the door again.

Anjali buried her head under the
pillow, trying to ignore Tehzeeb’s annoying voice.

‘Didi?’

Oh! Anjali stomped to the door.

 
‘What do you want?’ she snapped. ‘It is three
in the morning!’
 

 
‘I’m sorry didi; the children are shivering. If
you can give me more blankets...’ Tehzeeb was apologetic as Anjali’s face
darkened.

‘Fine, follow me.’

Anjali indeed was irritated. She
was tired and only wanted sleep. She did not care if Tehzeeb’s children were
cold! Opening a cupboard, she flung a few blankets to the floor.

‘Don’t wake me again,’ Anjali
warned and left Tehzeeb to take the heavy blankets herself to the children.

Back in her bed, Anjali
stretched. Mohan was coming back tomorrow and she could not wait. She was tired
of Tehzeeb and her ill-behaved children!

Anjali fell asleep. She hardly
knew when morning arrived and Mohan came home.

Anjali was unusually drowsy and lethargic. She opened her
eyes and squinted at the clock, it was nine. She furrowed her eyebrows as
Tehzeeb’s face came to her mind. She got up, annoyed. The witch bothered her
here too.
  

Anjali made her way downstairs
and heard laughter. She crept to the living room door and peered through the
door, which was slightly ajar.
 

Tehzeeb’s face shone with
delight as she told the children a funny story. The children were in giggles.

 
Mohan was there too...Mohan was there! What
was he doing and why didn’t he tell her he arrived?

Sparks flew within Anjali. She
watched, rage curling in her...they looked happy – a happy family.

Tehzeeb saw Anjali and smiled at
her. Anjali didn’t return the smile but crossed her arms around her chest.

 
‘Didi, you are up. Shall I get you some chai?’
Tehzeeb asked.

Anjali ignored her and looked to
her husband.

‘Mohan ji, can you come with me.
I would like to speak with you.’

Mohan raised his eyebrows.

‘You can say anything here,
Anjali,’ he said.

‘No ji, you go to her,’ said
Tehzeeb to Anjali’s disbelief.

‘I will be back, carry on with
the story,’ there was love in his voice. He briefly touched Tehzeeb’s face and
then turned to Anjali.

‘Please,’ he said, pointing to
the doorway.

 
With her heart beating, Anjali led him to
their bedroom.

She began to unbutton his shirt and kissed him urgently. She
threw off her sari and blouse and pressed her naked bosoms against his chest,
wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. She did not give Mohan a
chance to speak as she kissed him again, long and hard. Her passion hiked, she
bit his lips. She took procession of his body and soul.

Anjali felt Mohan surrender
himself to her and she took advantage. She pulled him to the bed and lay down.
Mohan dropped on top of her and they made gentle and passionate love.

They breathed deeply afterwards,
lying together. Anjali blushed now as she thought of what she had

done; this was so unlike her. Mohan circled her still erect
nipples with his forefinger and kissed her shoulder. Thrilling sensations
cascaded down to her belly and she sighed, happy. He was still hers...but what
he said next broke the spell.

‘Anjali my darling, you need not
be envious of Tehzeeb. She understands our relationship as you must of my and
Tehzeeb’s.’

‘What do you mean to say Mohan
ji?’ Anjali asked cautiously. Anger flared up again.

Mohan left her side and began to
get dressed.

‘Anjali, now please listen and
try to understand,’ he spoke to her like speaking to a stubborn child. ‘I love
you as I love her.’

Anjali flung the sheets away
from herself. She snatched her clothes she had thrown on the floor and began to
get dressed. The moment of tranquillity had vanished.

‘Did you come home last night
Mohan ji?’ she asked in spite of herself.

‘I arrived this morning.’

‘Did you come to our bedroom?’

‘Anjali, please do not ask
this.’

‘Mohan ji, please answer my
question.’

‘I went to see Tehzeeb.’

Anjali nodded and forbade her
tears to spill; they came anyway.

‘Oh Anjali,’ Mohan tried to take
her in his arms.

‘Go Mohan ji, go to your
precious Tehzeeb,’ Anjali’s tears came fast. ‘Leave me alone.’

Anjali saw two lives in this equation – hers and theirs.
Mohan paid a lot of attention to Tehzeeb’s needs than to her own. Her own
children no longer wanted to spend time with her but with their “new” brothers
and

sisters. The girls called Tehzeeb “Bari Ma” – Elder Mother.
Anjali was alone.

One day Mohan came home excited.
He put his briefcase down and took Anjali’s hands, swinging her around.
Tehzeeb’s face lit up.

‘What is it Mohan ji?’ she asked
before Anjali could.

Mohan left Anjali’s hands and
went to Tehzeeb. ‘I have wonderful news. Bhai Saab is coming from Bombay to
meet us! It has been a very long time. Do you remember him, Tehzeeb?’

‘Bhai Saab is coming? That is
wonderful news!’ Tehzeeb exclaimed.

‘Who is this Bhai Saab?’ asked
Anjali, she did not want to be left out of the conversation.

‘Bhai Saab is Rajesh, he is like
a big brother to me,’ replied Tehzeeb. ‘We have known him for many years.’ Her
face fell. ‘Mohan ji, is everything well with his family?’

 
‘He is alone, his mother and wife were killed
during the Independence riots.’

‘God,’ she said. ‘May he find
happiness.’

 
‘We will make sure he is happy when he comes,’
said Mohan.

Anjali looked forward to meeting
this man. She was curious to know him and wished Mohan mentioned him before. She
did not like being the third person.

TWENTY-FOUR

The day arrived when Anjali would finally see him – the man
whom everyone was so excited about. For weeks, Rajesh was the subject of
conversations during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Tehzeeb loved remembering
past times. She called him Bhai, meaning brother. Anjali wondered what could be
so special about Mr. Rajesh?

‘I understand Rajesh is a
popular person, from your stories he seems to be liked by everyone and is a
friend to many. What does he look like? Can you tell me? What does he do?’
Anjali asked Mohan one evening before they retired for bed.