Weapon of Vengeance (19 page)

“My! You are certainly dressed to kill.” Ruby gave an approving smile. She felt her own black and red dress looked dowdy in comparison.

“I don't usually wear saris … in fact I just learned to wear one,” Jasmine giggled, “but I thought tonight should be special. After all, how often does one go out with a sister one has never met before?”

“Very true. Not often.” Both smiled.

“Say! Why don't you wear a sari too?” Jasmine cocked her head to one side and studied Ruby. “That dress is lovely, but won't it be fun for both of us to wear saris?”

Ruby laughed, shaking her head. “I wouldn't be able to put one on or hold it up for—”

“Don't worry. I will tie it for you.” She said excitedly, “What fun! Come, let's do that.” Grabbing Ruby's hand, she led the way to her bedroom, down the corridor. Her excitement attracting Ruby, pushing everything else aside. Suddenly they were just two young girls … sisters … out to have fun.

Half an hour later, Jasmine stood back and surveyed the result of her effort. “You look gorgeous.”

And Ruby did. The deep blue Kanjivaram sari with a black border set off her dusky complexion. With straight black hair framing her face, she looked stunning. Jasmine's blouse was small for her; making her breasts seem fuller. Looking in the full-length mirror, Ruby could not believe it was her. She looked so different.

I even feel different
, Ruby thought with surprise.

“I feel nervous.” Ruby swiveled around slowly, clutching the folds of the silk sari. “What if it falls off?”

“The men there will be in for a treat, then.” Jasmine chuckled. “You don't do that.” She removed Ruby's hands from the folds of the sari. “Just let it fall free. Don't worry. It won't fall off. Now try to walk.”

Ruby took a few tentative steps. Then realizing it was not flimsily tied, she walked more confidently. Jasmine watched her go up and down. “Better? Think you can manage?”

“Much better.” Ruby nodded. “I think I can.”

“Then shall we, Ms. Gill?” Jasmine gestured at the door with a big smile. Ruby nodded and, picking up her clutch, got ready to follow. Then Jasmine frowned. “Wait. What's missing?” Ruby gave her a perplexed look. “Now I see it. You need something to set it off.” Returning to her dressing table, Jasmine scrabbled in the jewelry box and pulled out a pearl necklace and earrings.

“There is no need for that, Jasmine.”

“Nonsense. We are going to paint the town red.” Jasmine cut her off and helped her put them on. “Let Delhi know that the Gill sisters are out tonight.”

Ruby tossed her hair back coquettishly. “Yes! Let's go get them, girl.”

She was turning away from the dressing table when she spotted a pistol in the open jewelry box.

“You keep a gun?” Surprised, she asked, “Why?”

“Oh no, I hate guns.” Jasmine gave a shudder. “That's not mine. Daddy put it there. He even made me learn how to fire it.”

“What on earth for?”

“Ever since we moved here and he was put in charge of the ATTF, there have been threats against him. He says it is not a problem, but just in case … He even makes me carry pepper spray when I go out.”

Silence fell upon the two women.

“Well, it's not so bad.” Jasmine giggled. “You should have seen Mom's face when he made
her
go for firing practice.… She was fuming.”

Her giggle broke the somber mood. They were laughing again when they headed down. Jasmine caught hold of Ruby's hand as they descended. Ruby found the gesture strangely natural. It made her feel sad. She realized that this was what life would have been like if Ravinder and Rehana had … Ruby fought an unexpected surge of tears. Stopping, she turned and gave the surprised Jasmine a big hug.

“Thank you, Jasmine. Thank you very much.” The words came out hushed.

Jasmine's eyes were moist too. Then she forced a laugh as they headed out. They were at the door when Jasmine stopped. “Wait. I need to tell my mother when we will be back.” Leaving Ruby, she went to the base of the stairs and called out. “Mom! Mom!” There was no response. Jasmine headed up.

When she returned, her smile had vanished.

“She is upset?” Ruby murmured, lightly touching her arm. Jasmine looked away. “I can understand. Anyone would be.”

Jasmine looked at her; a long, close look. She realized Ruby was sincere and nodded.

They did not exchange another word as they got into Jasmine's car, a silver Tata Vista hatchback, and drove out. Their silence was awkward. Suddenly the car alongside swerved and cut them off, diving in front of them.

“Screw you! Moron!” Jasmine flipped her middle finger at the errant driver. She saw Ruby watching her with a smile and giggled. “That's Delhi traffic for you.”

They both laughed, and their awkwardness vanished.

“What kind of food do you like?” Jasmine asked as they hit the roundabout near India Gate.

“All kinds. Tonight, you decide.”

“Fine. Chinese it is, then.” Jasmine giggled. “I can never get enough of it.”

“So be it. I like Chinese a lot too.”

“Strange, isn't it?” Jasmine said. “How similar people can be? Despite being so different. Look at us. I'm an Indian, born and bred here. You are half Indian–half Palestinian, brought up in London. And yet, we both love Chinese food.”

Yes. We both laugh when we are happy. We cry when we are hurt, or sad. We bleed when we are cut.
Ruby did not say that out loud, of course.
Then why so many differences?

Then Jasmine turned the car into the Oberoi Hotel on Dr. Zakir Hussain Marg. The two young women, so similar, yet so different, walked into Taipan, the Chinese restaurant.

The large, well-lit room had tables placed comfortably apart, all sparkling with crystal ware. Snow-white linen lent a pristine touch to the ambience. Soft oriental music was playing in the background, loud enough to be audible, yet soft enough to allow the guests to converse easily. Despite being a weekday, it was almost full.

Ruby was touched; she could tell that Jasmine was going out of her way to make this evening memorable.

“I love Chinese food, but am not very good at ordering it,” Jasmine said as they sat at a table in the corner. “Would you like to do the ordering?”

“Not at all.” Ruby smiled. “Just go ahead and order what you like. I am sure it will be perfect.”

“At least help me with the wine, please. You see I rarely get to have a drink. Mom doesn't like me drinking any alcohol.”

“We need not have wine, then.… No point upsetting your mother, is there?”

“Nonsense! Of course we will have wine.” She consulted the waiter and ordered a Maotai, a fiery 106-proof concoction.

This was the second time Ruby had heard Jasmine talk about her mother. She noted with surprise that she also called her mother “Mom.”

Genes?

Ruby watched the younger girl as she placed the order. She seemed childlike. Innocent. Guileless. Secure.

“Didn't you get a bit carried away?” Ruby asked as the waiter walked off. “Are you sure we can eat all that?”

“Of course we can. Just you wait.… The food here is excellent. It's not the usual Chindian stuff you get in Delhi.”

“Chindian?”

“Chinese Indian. Like Chilly Chicken Manchurian. I bet most Chinese never heard of it, till we invented it for them.” Jasmine grinned. “Sometimes I think they'd wage war on us if they realized what we've done to their food.” They both laughed.

That was when Jasmine noticed two young men at an adjacent table throwing glances at Ruby. Her hackles rose. Getting up, Jasmine exchanged places with Ruby, much to her amusement, so that she was the one facing them now. Her angry glares soon turned the men off.

“I
can
take care of myself, you know.” Ruby chuckled; and yet moved that Jasmine felt so protective about her.

“I‘m sure you can, but you should not
need
to … not here … not on
my
watch.”

Ruby laughed again, touched by Jasmine's indignation. And then the waiter arrived.

Soon they were biting into pan-fried scallops with XO sauce. Seared in hot oil for a short while, their crusts were thin and crisp and yet tender.

“So,” Jasmine asked when the waiter had served them. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Whatever you feel like telling me.” Jasmine smiled. “Seeing that I know nothing about you, whatever you tell me will be new.”

Ruby was stricken by the reality of who she was and why she was here, but she kept a smile on her face and gave a bland synopsis of her life, steering clear of her profession and of Rehana.

If the scallops were good, the shark fin soup was unlike anything Ruby had ever tasted; ingeniously wrapped in a thin layer of egg white, it left an exquisite aftertaste in her mouth.

“Your mother never pestered you to marry?”

“No. Not really.” Ruby shrugged. “I needed to devote myself to my career first.”

“See.” Jasmine sat back with a sigh. “That's exactly what I keep telling my mom.”

“She wants you to marry now? But you are still so young.”

“S
he
says it's our family tradition.”

Ruby held her peace, sensing Jasmine might not take it well if Ruby commented on her mother.

“I keep telling her that I need to finish my law degree first, but … it's this silly royal blood thing—” She stopped when she saw Ruby's puzzled expression. “Didn't you know? Both Dad and Mom are from royal families.”

“No, I didn't know that. I thought all that went out with the British.”

“Yes, but you wouldn't know it to hear Mom go on and on … that I'll die an old maid. And my aunts are even worse.… They pump Mom up every time they meet her. Luckily, Dad is supporting me or I don't know how…” She trailed off.

“Do girls marry young in India?”

But again the waiter arrived. The braised bean curd with crab claw was of medium-firm consistency, smooth-textured, and had a slightly sweet, pleasant flavor. It was followed by a steamed codfish with garlic and preserved vegetables. Ruby felt she was in culinary heaven.

Jasmine resumed, “They don't marry so young anymore. At least not the ones who are educated.” As she picked her way through the codfish, she said, “If they're career-minded, they study as much as they want and work on their professional lives. It is just like in your part of the world. I know. I have so many friends—” She broke off again. “There I go, rambling on about myself.” Jasmine gave a shy laugh, suddenly embarrassed. “Tell me about yourself.” She giggled. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Ruby felt reality tug at her again. “I am not sure right now.” She was surprised to find herself answering truthfully, as though happy that she was actually able to share her thoughts.

“What does that mean? You either do or you don't?”

“Is it that simple?”

“Isn't it? You have one or you don't. He is either there or not there.”

Ruby pondered her beautiful simplicity. “Then I guess I don't.”

“What happened? You two had a fight?”

“No. Not really.” Ruby gave a wistful laugh. Almost wishing they had. “I don't know.… Somewhere something just went off track.” She fell silent.

Jasmine asked. “Your mother did not like him?”

“No! Mom never liked him.”

“Fortune hunter?”

“What?” Ruby laughed. “No. No fortune to hunt. Not in my case, at least.”

“As per my mom, there are only three kinds of men. Fortune hunters, sex maniacs, and the right ones.”

Ruby asked, after she finished laughing, “Okay, the first two I get, but who are the right ones?”

“In my mom's viewpoint, firstly, he has to be from a royal family … with more than just a dollop of blue blood. Secondly, he has to be as rich … if not richer than us.”

“I see. Fair enough.”

“Oh, but the list is not over yet.”

“Go on, please.” Ruby smiled.

“Thirdly, he has to be as educated, if not more. And lastly, he must be a Sikh. Trust me, Ruby.
That
is a heavy-duty checklist. It seriously trims the field down. In fact, sometimes I wonder if there is anyone still left in the world.”

They both laughed.

“By the way, I did want to ask you, do you go to the mosque or the gurudwara sahib to pray?” Jasmine asked. Realizing she may have strayed into sensitive territory, she quickly added, “I mean, because Dad is Sikh and your mother is … was … sorry … Muslim.”

Ruby almost chuckled, but controlled herself, realizing that Jasmine might have been crushed. “Neither, actually. You see, Mom was a devout Muslim, but she never compelled me to follow suit.” Suddenly somber, Ruby looked away, her mind in a tailspin; suddenly aware that she could allow Jasmine to enter only so far into her mind; her …
their
father
was
the enemy. She could not allow herself to forget that. “Also, I guess I was too busy trying to fit in with the others … at school and in the neighborhood, I mean.” She saw Jasmine's puzzled expression and explained, “Most were Christians, you see. Though we also had a lot of Jews … and some Buddhists and Hindus … and of course, a number of freethinkers.”

Jasmine gave an understanding smile.

“So I kind of grew up freewheeling. I mean, I do believe there is a god, but to my mind religion, well … most preach love and brotherhood, but in reality they're the cause for so much hate and destruction.”

“I agree with you.” Jasmine gave a grave nod. “But you have to have some religion … or what will they do when it is time to deliver the last rites?”

That got them both laughing.