After the Storm (8 page)

‘Doesn’t Raven Sir look too young to be a professor?’ she said aloud.

‘He
is
young,’ Vicky replied. ‘He’s only twenty-eight. I’ve heard he’s one of the youngest professors in the country.’

‘Only twenty-eight? Why, he’s just eleven years older than me. But the way he scolds us, he sounds older than Bauji’s grandfather.’

Vicky chuckled. ‘Even the boys in MP College are scared of him. And he’s just five or six years older than most of them …’

‘Oh no,’ Mili exclaimed as she realised she had got pine gum all over her fingers.

‘You’ll need turpentine to get that off,’ Vicky said.

Mili tried to rub it off with her thumb, but the harder she rubbed, the harder it stuck and turned brownish–black.

‘Vicky and Mili baba. You’ve got a visitor,’ Bahadur crowed from the veranda.

‘I wonder who it is,’ said Mili as they made their way to the parlour, still trying to get rid of the gum.

‘I hope it’s not Uncle George,’ said Vicky.

It wasn’t. It was someone she had known all her life. She stopped at the door of the parlour as soon as she saw him – sitting under the oil painting of the three angels playing on a harp. Then with a yelp of ‘Uday, what a surprise,’ she sprinted across the room and hugged her brother. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’

‘I was missing you, so came to give you a surprise,’ he said, tweaking her plait. He then turned to Vicky. ‘What happened? How come you’re so quiet? Has this place changed you?’

Vicky laughed. ‘No, Uday. I was enjoying the reunion.’

‘You mean Bharat milap?’ Mili chuckled.

‘What’s that?’ asked Vicky.

‘You’re as bad as Raven Sir. Don’t you know – in the Ramayana, when Lord Ram has been exiled and his brother Bharat comes to see him? And the two hug each other and shed many a tear?’

‘The only person I remember from the Ramayana is Suparnaka,’ said Vicky. ‘She too had a peculiar nose like Angel.’

Mili started giggling. Then growing a little sober, she asked, ‘Uday, how are Ma and Bauji?’

‘They’re fine,’ Uday replied. ‘Bauji has sent his army to Burma to aid the British in the war. And Ma is busy with her saris and jewellery as usual.’

‘I miss my saris. I hate this uniform,’ Mili said, fiddling with the buttons on her cardigan.

‘Now listen,’ said Uday. ‘I want to take you two out for dinner.’

‘In that case, we’d better be off right away, before Angel appears and starts asking us whether we have signed the register or not,’ chortled Vicky.

‘So where should we dine?’ asked Uday.

‘Nataraj!’ piped Mili and Vicky in unison.

Chatting excitedly, the three of them made their way down the hill. ‘Uday, it’s the best restaurant in Kishangarh. Wait till we tell Gurpreet and Jatin about it. They’ll be so jealous.’

When Mili entered their room that night, she found Vicky looking out of the window. ‘What’s the matter, Vicky?’ she asked.

Without turning around, Vicky whispered, ‘You’re lucky, Mili. You’ve got a brother.’

Mili put an arm around her friend. ‘Uday is also your brother.’

‘Yes, I know. But it’s not the same,’ Vicky replied. ‘I’ve often wondered, what would it be like? To have an older brother? Or a dad? Would they be possessive? Or pamper and spoil me? And then …’ She stopped talking and turned around.

Mili noticed her eyes were glistening.

‘And then when I got married, my dad would lead me to the altar. I would have the first dance with him.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to have the first dance with the bridegroom?’ asked Mili.

‘Never mind the groom. He’d have to wait.’

‘But I thought you didn’t want to marry? I thought you wanted to work like Mrs Nunes?’

‘Yes, that’s true. Let’s go to bed. We can’t be late for class tomorrow.’

Mili nodded and slipped into bed. But she couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking of what Vicky had just said. She had never seen her so solemn before.

Mili shot out of bed and looked at her watch. She was late again. She glanced at Vicky who had just finished brushing her teeth. Then she sat back on the bed and let out a sigh. ‘I don’t feel like going to class today. I feel exhausted, and the day has only just begun. And I haven’t even studied for the test.’

Vicky came and sat down on the bed beside her. She
clicked her fingers and said, ‘Let’s do one thing. Let’s play truant. Go shopping instead.’

‘How can we do that? We’ll get caught.’

‘We’ll have breakfast at Uncleji’s. And sneak off from there.’

‘And what’ll we say when Prof. Raven asks us tomorrow why we missed the test?’

‘We’ll say – we weren’t well.’

‘Both of us?’

Vicky pushed back her glasses and thought hard. ‘I know. We’ll say we got an upset stomach. From something we ate. At the restaurant last night.’

The mere mention of the restaurant reminded Mili of the scrumptious meal they had eaten with Uday. The potatoes cooked in cumin seeds and garnished with coriander leaves were so delicious. As were the fried brinjal, the cauliflowers cooked in tomato sauce enriched with cashew nuts and raisins. And the smell of mint chutney was so strong, it remained on her fingers for a long time after she had eaten.

‘But … do you think Raven Sir will believe us?’ she asked Vicky.

‘You think too much. Get dressed fast. And let’s go.’

Mili grinned as she finished her breakfast and stepped out of the tuck shop. The thought of missing class and going shopping instead was exhilarating. She had never done anything like that before. But … who was that coming towards them? ‘Raven Sir,’ she wailed.

‘Why are you spoiling your mood? Talking about him?’ said Vicky.

‘It’s sir! He’s coming this way. What do we do?’

‘Oh, what the devil. We’re dead now!’

‘What are you two doing here?’ Raven asked. He looked at his watch. ‘School is going to start in fifteen minutes.’

‘S-sir, we were just heading that way,’ Vicky stammered.

‘Good,’ said Raven. He handed them a pile of papers. ‘In that case, take these papers to your classroom and put them on my desk. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

‘There goes shopping,’ Vicky grumbled, as the two of them dragged themselves towards the classroom.

‘What about the test? I haven’t studied a word,’ said a very worried Mili.

‘We’ve got ten minutes. Let’s make the most of it,’ replied Vicky.

Nose buried in her poetry book, Mili paced the corridors in front of the classroom. Which Romantic poet should she study? Shelley or Keats or Byron? Wasn’t Byron a pre-Raphaelite?
Oh Lord Kishan, please help
. She was so confused. She felt like the grasshopper that had wasted its entire summer singing and enjoying itself and now had to face the consequences. And why was that group of girls near the door chatting and laughing so loudly? How was she expected to focus?

There was a sudden hush followed by a murmur. Mili looked up. Raven was walking towards the classroom. Mili ran towards him, followed by Vicky.

‘Sir, please postpone the test. Please, sir. My brother was here yesterday and took us out for dinner. By the time we got back, we were too tired to study.’ She had
said it in a single breath and now stood panting.

‘Yes, sir, please don’t give us a test today,’ clamoured the other students.

‘I don’t care how busy you’ve been,’ replied Prof. Raven. ‘If you can’t cope now, how are you going to cope in later life? When you will be working or married and taking care of a family?’

Looking down glumly, Mili grimaced.

Clapping his hands, Raven said, ‘Get inside the classroom, everyone. The bell is about to ring.’

‘Ravan, the demon,’ muttered Vicky as they took their seats at the back of the class, as usual.

‘Lord Kishan, where are you today?’ Mili mumbled as she read the questions on the question paper. She only knew two answers. She watched Vicky as she slyly opened a copy of their notes and wedged it between the two of them. Mili smiled as Vicky looked at her and winked. Now every few minutes she would glance at the notes and scribble the answer on her answer sheet.

‘What?’ she whispered as Vicky nudged her with her elbow. She looked up, straight into Raven’s eyes. Her brows knit together; she looked at Vicky, perplexed. Then not knowing what to do, she lowered her eyes and continued scribbling on her answer sheet.

Raven barked, ‘Malvika Singh and Victoria Nunes, out!’

Mili winced as she heard their names. Everyone else had stopped writing and was looking in their direction. Her ears had turned red and felt hot. She wished the earth would open up and consume her, like it had swallowed
Sita when Lord Ram had denounced her. With eyes downcast she quietly gathered her books and slunk out of the classroom, preceded by Vicky.

‘Wait for me in my office,’ she heard Raven thunder after them. She closed her eyes and winced again.

Vicky and Mili stopped whispering when they heard footsteps in the corridor and braced themselves. The door of the office swung open and Raven strode into the room. He flung his jacket over the back of a chair, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the topmost button on his shirt, before turning his gaze on the two of them.

‘Why were you two cheating?’ he asked.

As always, straight to the point. Ravan didn’t believe in mincing words, did he? Silence. Vicky pushed back her glasses and stole a sideways look at Mili. She was busy biting her thumbnail.

‘Sir, we weren’t the only ones cheating. Angel and—’ said Vicky.

Walking around the desk to where she sat, Raven now stood glaring down at her. Vicky squirmed in her seat and wished she hadn’t spoken.

‘I don’t care who else was cheating.’ His voice had
dropped to a whisper but his tone was laced with ice. ‘I saw you two. Were you or were you not cheating?’

Vicky and Mili did not say anything but hung their heads.

Raven went and sat down at his desk. ‘Malvika Singh and Victoria Nunes, were you or were you not cheating?’ he grated through clenched teeth.

‘Yes, sir,’ Vicky and Mili answered together, their voices barely audible.

Vicky gulped as he picked up their answer sheets, tore them into two and threw them in the waste bin.

‘You two have brains. Why are you frittering your lives away?’ Raven said, his eyes flashing angrily. He got up from his seat and paced the room, running his fingers through his hair. Then he veered around to face them. ‘Do you know the plight of your classmate, Vidushi? I met her a few days back. Poor girl is rotting in an ashram. She would love to be in your place.’

He walked back to his desk. Speaking slowly, he thumped the desk with each word he spoke. ‘You two are occupying seats that someone else might have occupied more fruitfully.’ He paused for breath, then spoke again. ‘Don’t waste your time. Or mine. I don’t want you getting into any kind of trouble again. Have I made myself clear?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Vicky murmured.

Then with a wave of his hand and a ‘Go now, you’re going to be late for your next class,’ he dismissed them.

That night, after dinner, Vicky and Mili took their customary stroll in the hostel garden. After a while, they
sat down on a little mound at the edge of the garden which was hidden from view by a thicket. Leading downhill from it was an unused dirt track that Mili fondly called the Hide-and-Seek Road. Vicky pulled gently at something on the ground and gave it to Mili.

Mili looked at it, smiled and said, ‘Thanks.’

‘Thanks?’ Vicky exclaimed. ‘What the devil. What happened? No whoop of delight? It’s a four-leaf clover. You yourself told me it’s lucky to find one.’

Mili smiled again.

The wind was howling tonight; Vicky wrapped her dressing gown tightly about her, then looked at her friend. ‘You’re quiet tonight,’ she said.

‘I was thinking about what Raven Sir said. You know, he’s right.’

‘I know. That was quite a scolding,’ replied Vicky. She felt sorry for Mili. She was fragile. No one ever raised their voice at her at the palace. And if she did get into mischief on her instigation, the servants covered up for her. Couldn’t that Ravan be less of a beast towards Mili at least? As for her – it didn’t really matter. She was used to scoldings. Not a day had gone by in Mohanagar when she didn’t get into some scrape or another.

‘Be serious, Vicky,’ Mili was saying. ‘We can’t keep getting into trouble. If Raven Sir complains to Principal Perkins, we can be thrown out of the school, you know.’

‘I guess you’re right. We can’t go back to Mohanagar. In disgrace. Mummum would die. She’d disown me.’

‘And what he said about wasting time …’

Vicky did not reply immediately but thought about what Raven had said that morning. ‘Why are you
frittering your lives away?’ he had said. It was true. She had never taken life seriously, never thought of achieving anything. She simply lived, or as he would have said, wasted each day as it came.

‘Yes, Mili,’ she said quietly. ‘We need to get serious. I want to work all my life. Like Mummum. You know, Mummum’s always been strong. She met with much opposition when she married Papa. Even after his death, nobody helped her.’

‘Yes, I know. Even Ma thinks she’s extraordinary.’

‘She calls me her bravest child. Sometimes I wonder. What if I’m really not that courageous?’

‘Vicky, you know very well you’re the bravest girl I’ve ever come across. You were climbing trees even before you could walk. You rode your pony bareback when you were just four. It wa—’

‘And you were a crybaby. Remember? When I forced you? To climb a tree? You were afraid to come down. You sat there and cried.’ Vicky rubbed her eyes and pretended to cry. ‘And cried …’

‘You …’ Mili lunged at Vicky. Vicky ducked and ran away laughing, with Mili after her.

The following week found Vicky and Mili traipsing towards the Mall. Vicky looked at Mili impatiently as she tripped over her sari for the third time. Whoever wears a sari when walking down a hill? A bicycle bell tinkled and she stepped aside to let it pass. But it halted right next to them. It was Gurpreet.

He looked at Mili and said, ‘Oh, lucky day, seeing your lovely face, first thing in the morning! What good
fortune! It seems as though the moon has come down to earth!’

The two girls laughed.

‘Where’s Jatin?’ Vicky asked.

‘In his beloved Jeolikot,’ replied Gurpreet.

‘He goes there a lot,’ said Vicky.

‘So where are you off to today?’ Gurpreet asked.

Blushing, Mili answered, ‘We’ve been invited for lunch by Vicky’s aunt.’

‘In that case I shall also pay her my respects,’ said Gurpreet. ‘I’ve heard she’s very beautiful.’ So saying, he grabbed Mili’s bag from her hand and flung it over his shoulder.

‘You better not come,’ said Vicky. ‘My uncle will also be there.’

But Gurpreet had already forgotten Vicky and was busy serenading Mili. ‘What silky tresses you have,’ he sang.

‘My friend is not interested in you,’ said Vicky. ‘Leave her alone.’ Why was he flirting with Mili? Was he trying to make her jealous? The rascal!

Gurpreet crossed his hands over his heart and sighed theatrically, ‘Don’t break my heart, my lovely …’

He could not continue as Uncle George’s cottage came into view and Vicky and Mili hastily waved him goodbye.

Vicky sniffed the air appreciatively as she entered the house. Aunt Ethel was waiting for them with a smile and freshly baked bread. She ushered them into the living room. Uncle George looked up as they entered.

‘Oh, you two,’ he said and went back to his book.

Aunt Ethel cleared her throat as she fiddled with the cuffs of her dress.

‘George, it has taken me a lot of persuasion to get Vicky to come and have lunch with us. She wa—’

‘Why? Is she the Queen that she has to be invited with so much fanfare?’ said Uncle George.

‘Now, George,’ said Aunt Ethel. ‘We have agreed to be her local guardian. Let’s be nice to our ward.’

‘I didn’t say anything wrong, did I? I caught her smoking that day, didn’t I? I don’t have the right to scold her? After all, as you said, we are her guardians and are responsible for her.’

‘Come, girls,’ said Aunt Ethel with an exasperated sigh. She put a hand on Vicky’s shoulder. ‘Let’s go and see if the meal is ready.’

The dining room was small. Vicky looked at the food greedily while they waited for Uncle George to start grace. He was taking his time, tucking the serviette into his shirt, rolling up his sleeves.

Vicky looked at the food laid out before them. The food at the hostel was wholesome, healthy and tasteless. It lacked that something that set it apart from home food – the touch of the lady of the house. Like when Mummum would come to the kitchen and, taking the ladle from the cook, taste the stew. She would then look towards the ceiling while still chewing the meat and say, ‘I think it needs to simmer for five more minutes. And a dash of pepper.’ She would then sprinkle some pepper powder and
voilà
! The dish would be lifted from the ordinary to the divine. Like the dishes set before her right now – touched by Aunt Ethel’s magic.

After grace, Uncle George read his book while eating and ignored them for the rest of the meal. Vicky and Mili chatted quietly with Aunt Ethel and left the house as soon as the meal was over.

As they made their way back to the hostel, Vicky said, ‘You know, Mili … Aunt Ethel insisted I bring you along. Else I would have never let you meet Uncle George again.’

‘Forget about him, Vicky,’ Mili replied. ‘The food was good. Just remember that.’

‘How can you be so sweet? So forgiving? All the time?’

Mili smiled. ‘Catch me if you can,’ she challenged, running up the Hide-and-Seek Road. She tripped over her sari and fell.

Vicky smacked her forehead twice, as she ran after her friend to see if she was all right.