Where the Secret Lies (5 page)

murderers came. My husband could not escape.

‘He is a Hindu! Kill him!’ they
shouted. My horror was my silence, afraid to leave my children; I could not to
go to my dying husband. I watched from afar as he died the death of an animal.’

Jayshree broke down and sobbed
and Anjali took her into an embrace until she calmed.
 

Anjali watched Jayshree and her children as they slept.
Sometimes, Jayshree would cry out in her sleep but then would settle down
again. Mohan came in from time to time. He looked tired.

‘Let’s get some rest,’ said Anjali.

Mohan and Anjali settled on the floor on top of a thin
blanket, listening to the quiet. Eventually, Anjali fell asleep on Mohan’s
shoulder. He gently laid her down and went to sleep in another room.

The morning brought cloudy skies. Jayshree, embarrassed
apologised profoundly for her lack of a good host. Anjali reminded her she was
a victim and probably hardly slept at all since her husband’s death. Jayshree
admitted she had not slept at all. Mohan and Anjali ate a good breakfast and
prepared for their leave.

‘What will you do now?’ asked
Mohan.

Anjali looked around – she saw a
dog wander in the street, heard cows in the distance but not a soul could be seen.

‘Does anyone else live in this
village?’ she asked.
 

‘A few others are still here but
they live on the other side of the village. Most have moved away. Two Muslim
families stayed despite the murderous riots. They claimed India as their own
country; I live alone in this part.’

‘Why don’t you move to the other
side where you will be safe?’ suggested Anjali.

‘I have memories here – of my
husband sitting on that chair, reading his paper and smoking a cigarette. I
can’t leave my memories, it’s all I have.’

‘What about the safety of your
children?’ Mohan asked.

‘They are good children. I love
them very much...’ A thought struck her.
 
‘People who are moving from East Pakistan to India will surely need to
find a place to live. These houses will be filled once more and I no longer
will be alone. They will need someone to befriend and help them and I shall be
here, waiting for them.’

Mohan and Anjali had to smile at
her zeal.

‘But where are you going? Where
are you from?’ Jayshree asked them.

‘We have been separated from our
families, we are going to Lucknow,’ said Mohan.

Jayshree packed chapattis and condiments for Anjali and
Mohan for their trip ahead. Jayshree mentioned she knew a man who owned a tonga
and a horse and was having trouble keeping them.

‘You must be careful. The horse
is temperamental. She loved her owner very much,’ Jayshree advised. ‘The owner
is poor and cannot afford her.’

The relief was evident on the man’s face as he shook Mohan’s
hand.

‘God bless you,’ he said. ‘It is
enough of a worry for us. We have seven children to feed. God bless you.’

The horse stood to attention
whilst they talked. The horse reminded Anjali of a similar horse she once knew
of the name Chameli. She told the man about this. At this, the horse neighed.
Anjali stepped closer and stroked the horse’s mane.

‘Is this Chameli, Chandu bhai’s
horse? They lived in Rajkot?’ she asked.

 
‘You are correct. I am Chandu’s uncle. My
brother and Chandu were both killed in a riot last month. I knew something
happened; I felt it here in my heart. I found my brother and nephew dead
outside their house. Chameli was alive but frightened. It took me a long time
to gain her confidence. After I cremated my family, I brought Chameli here.’

‘Chandu was a nice man. I liked
him,’ said Anjali quietly.

The man stroked Chameli’s mane
and said some words in her ear. She neighed.

‘Hello Chameli. Do you remember
me? I am Anjali.’

 
Chameli stamped her feet in what seemed like
approval and Anjali laughed.

The journey became tolerable and Anjali thanked God for
Chameli. She thought about Chandu and his family and fought back tears.

The skies grey, a rumble
shattered the quiet ride. It would not be long before the storm arrived. Leaves
took flight as the wind picked up.

‘Mohan ji, maybe we should
stop,’ Anjali shouted above the noise of the wind.

‘We have to carry on. I know of
a refugee camp not far from here. They can give us shelter,’ Mohan shouted
back. He urged Chameli to gallop faster.

Anjali huddled closer into the
shelter of the cart, wrapping a shawl around her. Jayshree had given Anjali and
Mohan some clothing of which she would not take payment for, until Mohan
insisted.

 
‘Think of your children,’ said Mohan. ‘Please
take the money. It will make us feel better.’

Anjali thought about the kind
woman when the rain arrived, drenching the road in minutes. Mohan was soaked as
well as poor Chameli.

‘Mohan ji, we must stop,’ Anjali
said again.

Mohan slowed down and directed
Chameli into the shelter of trees. Anjali passed him some dry clothes and
turned away allowing him some privacy. Meanwhile, she fed Chameli an apple.

As soon as the rain stopped, they
were on the road again. Anjali fell asleep and woke up to a night sky; they
were approaching a camp. It seemed to shelter

Thousands of families like a small village. A uniformed man
came to meet them.

‘Saab, we need shelter for one
night,’ said Mohan.

‘What is your name?’ asked the
officer.

‘Mohan Thakkar.’

‘Are you from Pakistan?’ he
asked.

‘No saab.’

‘Is she your wife?’ he peered at
Anjali.

‘No saab. She has lost her
family.’

The officer looked down his
list. ‘Go to tent 125, settle, and have something to eat. You will need to fill
in this form.’ He pushed a clipboard and a pen into Mohan’s hand.

‘What about the horse and the
cart?’ Mohan asked.

‘You can take them over there;
the horse will be looked after.’

‘Thank you Saab.’

Mohan and Anjali sat side by
side in the tent and drank hot chai. Many families were asleep. Every now and then,
an officer walked past with a rifle in his hand.

Everything seemed very well organised, Anjali thought.
Perhaps they would be able to help find her family...

‘You should go to sleep. I will
sleep over there,’ said Mohan indicating the other side of the tent.

Anjali got under her blanket
quietly but lay awake, too nervous to sleep.

SEVEN

It was early morning when Anjali woke up; Mohan was still
fast asleep. Anjali stretched and walked outside, sighing in content. A sharp
but pleasant wind greeted her upturned face and a morning hum filled the air as
families opened their tents.

The landscape varied on each
side of the camp. One side consisted of unkempt hills and the other side a
rocky terrain. Anjali estimated more than a thousand tents in this camp, which
never seemed to end.

The officers had exchanged
duties too. Those on communication now patrolled and vice versa. There seemed to
be around two dozen of uniformed charges. The tents were organised in areas
with numbers and signs. Anjali was impressed with the level of organization
given the circumstances.

The animals and carts stood a
short distance from the tents. The cows and horses munched on hay and grass
from a narrow trough. Another trough housed water for the beasts.

Anjali’s stomach grumbled, she
searched for the food tent. A few yards away, a big sign read ‘KHANNA’, meaning
Food.

‘Bhai saab, can I have something
to eat?’ Anjali asked the tent supervisor.

‘It is five in the morning, breakfast
is not served until six, but you may go in. The tea is ready,’ he said.

Handling the hot cup, Anjali walked
back to the tent. She sipped her chai sitting on a grass patch, watching the
officers and soldiers work side by side.

Around six thirty, Mohan came
out of the tent and stretched. His glorious rough morning state nearly made
Anjali drop her chai but she regained her composure. She tried to hide her
blush.

 
‘Do you want breakfast or...’ Mohan nodded
towards her chai.

‘I am famished. I was waiting
for you,’ Anjali lied.

A line had already formed
outside the food tent as Mohan and Anjali joined the queue. The line moved
frustratingly slow.

‘What time did you wake?’ Mohan stood
very close to Anjali.

‘Very early,’ she answered, heat
rising to her cheeks.

 
‘You look beautiful this morning. The
scrambled hair suits you,’ Mohan said, his eyes twinkling.

‘Are you laughing at me Mohan
ji?’ Anjali frowned as she tried to smooth her hair down.

‘I am sorry,’ said Mohan but
Anjali saw the hint of a smile on his face.

The line moved on.

‘Are we going to stop a few more
times before we reach Lucknow?’ she asked.

‘No, Lucknow will be our last
stop. An officer told me it isn’t so far from here.’

Anjali noticed Mohan seemed
distracted now and wondered again about his family. What was he hiding? Where
were his mother and father, his brothers and sisters? Did he have a wife and
children too? Anjali felt a twang of jealousy and berated herself. Mohan is
quite a few years older but... she thought but that kiss, those looks, and
those words.

‘Anjali ji, we are at the
front,’ Mohan cut into her thoughts.

‘Yes, of course,’ she said and made
herself focus on breakfast.

After breakfast, Anjali went back to the tent and Mohan went
to the enquiry desk. Anjali leaned against the tent pole closing her eyes
briefly, when she heard crying.

 
A young girl was crying outside the adjacent
tent, holding a baby.

‘Why are you crying?’ Anjali
asked, going to her.

‘I want my mother,’ the girl
cried. ‘I don’t know where she is.’

‘Is she here in the camp?’

‘No,’ the girl shook her head.
‘We got separated...’ the girl’s big brown eyes sought Arianna’s compassion.

 
‘I remember Ma putting Bittu into my arms and
telling me to keep safe. She hid us somewhere. I fell asleep and when I woke
up; a uniformed man came and brought us here.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Preetu.’ The girl rocked the
baby. ‘This is Bittu, my brother.’

‘What about your father?’

‘He was killed with my other
brothers and sisters. Bittu and I...we escaped.’

The baby woke and began to cry.

 
‘Can you help me? I don’t know if Bittu is hungry,
I don’t know why he is crying,’ Preetu began to cry again.

‘Would you like me to take him
for a while?’ Anjali asked. ‘My tent is over there. Don’t worry, I will not
take him away from you, I am here to help you.’

Preetu searched Anjali’s face
for something – maybe trust?

‘If I go and get some milk, will
you still be here?’ she asked.

‘I promise. Here, take this,’
Anjali took a gold ring off her finger and gave it to Preetu. ‘Now you can
trust me.’

Preetu handed her brother to
Anjali with a watery smile and went to get the milk but before that, she gave
the ring back. ‘I trust you,’ she said.

Mohan came back.

 
‘Whose baby is this?’ he asked.

‘His sister has gone to get some
milk. Poor girl, she is only a child...Mohan ji, she has no one. Her father, sisters,
and brothers were killed. She does not know what happened to her mother. Mohan
ji, can we take her with us?’

‘We can barely look after
ourselves. She and the baby are safe here; they have food and shelter. I am
sure the officers are trying to locate their mother.’

‘I am sure you are right,’
sighed Anjali.

‘I wish we could help but this
is the way it is,’ said Mohan. ‘I’m sorry.’

Anjali handed the baby over to Preetu who began to feed him straight
away. Poor Bittu, he was very hungry.

‘This is Mohan ji,’ she told the
girl.

‘Are you married to him?’ Preetu
asked.

Anjali laughed. ‘No, he is a
friend.’

‘Tell me, how long have you been
here?’ asked Mohan.

‘Three weeks,’ said Preetu. ‘I
wait for my mother every day. I fear...’

‘Your mother will come for you,
have faith in God.’

‘I miss her,’ Preetu cast her
eyes down.
 

Anjali put an arm around her and
her eyes filled; she blinked them away furiously.

‘Mohan ji,’ said Anjali. ‘Would
you...?

‘I will go and enquire,’ Mohan understood.

Preetu was very tired and the
baby had gone back to sleep. Anjali helped Preetu put the baby in the tent on
some blankets and told her to get some sleep too.

‘What have you found out?’
Anjali asked as soon as Mohan came back.

‘They have located a woman
asking for a daughter and a son. They fit the description Preetu had given to
the officers.’

‘That is good news,’ said
Anjali.

‘Perhaps, but the woman will not
be here until after two days, and then it may not be her. The officers will not
inform the girl yet, it wouldn’t be fair.’

‘Could we stay, at least
until...?’

‘We are in no rush. I was
thinking the same.’

Mohan and Anjali became like a
big brother and sister to Preetu. She laughed at Mohan’s jokes and relaxed in
his company. She did not cry once. In the time Anjali knew Mohan; she never saw
this side of him – he was usually uptight. She forgot about her own problems
too.

They waited for news on Preetu’s
mother but as another night drew in, they saw Preetu begin to lose hope. Anjali
looked after Bittu when Preetu was overwhelmed. Mohan helped too.