Where the Secret Lies (4 page)

The cafe’s logo and name ran along the screen when Arianna
turned the machine on. It reminded her of a news channel where ‘breaking news’
would run along the bottom of the screen. She thought of London; a twinge of homesickness
overwhelmed her for a second, images of her house in London, her bed, her
friends and of Jai crowded her mind.

Jai – what did she think of him
as? A friend or something more? Did she feel the same attraction as he did for
her? Unsure and confused, she took a moment to clear her thoughts. She could
not let him think she loved him, as a lover. He was only a friend.

 
Arianna logged onto her email site and typed
in her username and password. The waiting seemed to take forever as the page
took its sweet time to load. The inbox page popped up and Arianna groaned – the
list of emails totalled to over a hundred. Arianna scanned the list, looking
for an email from Jai but she found none.
 
She resented the fact that Jai did not have
the decency to email her, especially after what he said. How dare he!

She logged out, angry and upset.
A stinging under her eyelids let a few tears escape. Embarrassed, she wiped
them away and picked up her bag.

‘Arianna? Hey, are you alright?’

‘Nikhil, hello,’ Arianna was
taken aback. What was he doing here?

 
‘Is everything alright?’ Nikhil showed concern
but Arianna didn’t want to tell a stranger her silly moment of disappointment.

‘Everything’s okay. I need to get
back home, the others will be wondering where I am.’

‘I can give you a lift in my
car,’ he offered.

‘No, I will be fine. Anyway, are
you not meeting someone here?’ she asked.

‘I come here to pass the time. I
like the busy atmosphere.’

Reluctant but also glad, Arianna
let Nikhil drive her home. His car was not a show off, she was happy to see.

‘This may sound strange but if
you need someone to talk to, if you need a friend, I will listen,’ Nikhil
turned into the main road.

The skies shone a beautiful blue
and Arianna revelled in the heat. Rickshaws or Autos as the locals preferred,
zigzagged their way in between cyclists, cars, and Lorries. Everyone seemed to
be in a hurry, tooting continuously and for no apparent reason.

Nikhil’s expert driving relaxed
Arianna a little. Her eyes wandered to his tight t-shirt, his beautiful, muscled
biceps, his perfect straight jaw and defined cheekbones. He wore his hair
sleeked back. Arianna blushed as he caught her staring at him. He gazed back
and time stopped for a moment. A loud toot brought them both back to the
present. A man waved an angry fist as Nikhil swerved his car. He shouted
“sorry” to the driver and began to concentrate on the road again.

Arianna settled down in her seat
and played with a strand. Her heart fluttered and heat rushed through her

veins. Ugh, what was wrong with her? She should say
something to break the silence.

‘How long have you known
Khushboo?’ she asked.

‘Since high school.’

‘Is she more than a friend?’

Nikhil raised an eyebrow.

‘Sorry,’ she said.

Nikhil laughed. ‘I never felt
anything more for her. She is a dear friend of mine but that is all.’

They arrived at Khushboo’s house
and Nikhil turned the ignition off. He shifted his body to his side, his

dark, intense eyes once again started boring into hers.
Arianna couldn’t look away.

‘Now answer my question. Why
were you upset?’

Arianna lowered her eyes and
began to pick at her sleeve. ‘I was expecting an email from Jai from back home.
He is one of my best friends.’

‘A male friend. A boyfriend?’

‘He is a good friend,’ Arianna
thought she heard Nikhil sigh in relief.

 
‘I wouldn’t worry,’ he said. ‘He will email
soon, I’m sure.
 
How long have you been
here? Two to three days? Give him time.’

‘I said I would email him. What
is wrong with me? He must be waiting from an email from me. I...Nikhil, do you
mind? Will you take me back to the café?’ Nikhil looked at Arianna, puzzled.

 
‘I need to send an email,’ she said.

Arianna sat at the computer, and logged into her account.

Jai, it has been two
days since my arrival. I did not expect India to be so wonderful! Khushboo is
wonderful and has already taken me places. You would like her. I met some nice
people here and they are great. The weather is not as bad as I expected, there
is a lot of sunshine. :0)

 
I think of you a lot and miss you but Jai, I
love you - as my best friend and nothing more.

I am at a cyber café. Khushboo does not have a computer at home. I have
to go, don’t be disheartened, Jai. I am and always will be your best friend, no
matter what. Wish you were here to see this wonderful country.

Yours always,

Ari.x

Arianna hit the send button.

‘Sorry, Jai,’ she said.

‘Are you feeling better?’ Nikhil
asked as Arianna climbed into the car.

‘Yes, I think so,’ Arianna
replied but something was still wrong...should she have told Jai about Nikhil?
Don’t be silly, she scolded herself. Nikhil is a friend and he is Khushboo’s
best friend.

As soon as Arianna got home, Khushboo dragged her to her
room.

‘You were with Nikhil!’ she squealed.

‘Yes and no.’

‘Tell me.’

‘What is there to tell?’ Arianna
laughed. ‘Okay, I met Nikhil at the café. He was kind enough to drop me home.’

Khushboo frowned. ‘That’s all?’

‘He said you two are very good
friends.’

‘Oh...I thought there was some
connection between you and him...I saw you with him last night at Juhu. He
liked you and now he meets you at the café. It cannot be coincidence.’

‘Why not? Khushboo, it is a coincidence.
Don’t over think it,’ Arianna tapped Khushboo’s forehead. ‘But what I don’t
understand is why you are not dating him? Have you seen him?’

It was Khushboo’s turn to laugh.
‘Ari, I can’t see him like that. That would be so weird!’

Unconvinced, Arianna let the
subject pass.

‘What are our plans for the rest
of the day?’

Khushboo smiled. ‘What else but
more shopping!

ANJALI

SIX

Anjali and Mohan walked for days,
losing track of time and distance. Anjali became tired but Mohan on the other
hand never complained and kept a steady pace. A gentleman; he made sure they
rested plenty, refreshed and ate, something he did not negotiate.

A lot of the time, they walked
in silence. When Mohan and Anjali did have a conversation, the subject was
about Anjali and her life. Mohan avoided talking about his own kin, making
Anjali curious. When she asked, he would change conversation.

‘Please don’t ask me. I will
tell you when the time is right,’ he said when Anjali’s questions became
frustratingly unbearable. The pain in his eyes pierced Anjali’s heart.

Somewhere near a village, Mohan
noticed Anjali’s sluggish steps when she suddenly collapsed.

‘Anjali!’ Mohan threw down his
satchel and knelt beside her. He took her cold hand.
 
‘Please, wake up.’ Mohan splashed water on
her face.

‘Mohan ji...’

‘Oh thank God.’ Mohan sat Anjali
up slowly and touched her forehead.

‘I feel dizzy,’ she said.

‘Here, drink some water. I’m
sorry, I have worn you out,’ Mohan handed her the flask.
 

Anjali drank and handed the
flask back.
 
She stood; her legs
unsteady. Mohan put his arms around her waist and supported her.

‘There is a village here where
we can stop and get some food. Will you be alright to walk?’

‘Mohan ji, can we use the train
or bus?’ asked Anjali.

Mohan shook his head. ‘It is too
dangerous.’

‘The killings will have stopped,
I’m sure if -’

‘No, there is a lot of danger
yet.
 
Many are still moving out of their
homes to escape being murdered.’

A sob left Anjali as she thought
about her own family. Mohan put a hand under her chin and lifted her face to
his.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed.

‘You must be brave. You must be
strong,’ he wiped her tears.

They stood together, heat from
their bodies bringing them closer. Mohan kissed her lips with tenderness. She
melted – she wanted more and gasped. Anjali stepped back, unsure how to react.

‘You have grown on me, Anjali
ji. I find you attractive and I can’t bear to be without you.’ The seduction in
his voice was dangerous.

He kissed her again, this time
with urgency. It was over too soon when he pulled away.

‘We must continue before darkness
falls,’ he said.

The village seemed deserted; the
silence frighteningly loud. Anjali gripped Mohan’s arm. Walking deeper into the
village, they came upon houses no longer habited, left as black skeletal ruins.
Anjali covered her nose to rid the stench of murder.

Mohan undeterred, moved around,
searching and inspecting the non-habited dwellings.

‘Mohan ji,’ Anjali pointed.

Three children sat with their
arms around each other, watching their mother clear the floor with long, thin
branches. They huddled close as Mohan and Anjali approached. The woman stopped
her work and gathered the children around her quickly.

She stared at the intruders sharply.

‘What do you want?’ she asked.
The children cowered behind her. ‘Do not come a step forward or I will take
your eyes out!’ The woman raised her thin broom.

 
‘We have not come to harm. Please believe us,’
Mohan said.

‘I will not allow you to take my
home or hurt my children, you understand? You may have taken my husband but you
will not hurt my children!’

‘We are not here to hurt
anyone,’ Anjali said. She showed empty hands.

 
‘Then why are you here? Go away,’ the woman
begged.

‘We will leave,’ said Mohan
kindly and turned to Anjali. ‘We are not welcome here. We should go.’

‘Wait,’ the woman said. She
spent a few moments looking at Anjali and Mohan in silence. ‘You seem troubled
and hungry.’

‘Yes,’ said Anjali.

‘You promise you won’t hurt us?’
the woman asked doubtfully.
 

‘
Behna
(sister), if we were to hurt you, we wouldn’t be standing
here talking to you. You and your children would be dead,’ said Mohan.

‘You are right,’ the woman said.
‘Yes, you are right.’

Anjali and Mohan sat in the woman’s kitchen. It housed a
small 2-ringed cooker, a stack of pots and pans and a few brass plates and
tumblers. The woman laid down mats for her guests and provided them with a basic
but filling meal of chapattis and potatoes. The children ate with Mohan and
Anjali but the woman did not join them, she just stared at an empty space.

‘My husband was the merchant of this village,’ the woman
began to talk.
 
Anjali dropped her spoon
in surprise for she did not expect her to speak.
 

‘Everyone said
Namaste
and
Salaam
to him on the street and he always gave the same salutation
back. There was no division of religions; no one cared who was Hindu, Sikh or
Musalmaan (Muslim). We all knew each other for years as did our parents and
grandparents. We loved one another as sisters and brothers.

Then one day, everything changed.
There was tension, weeks before partition was granted. The Musalmaans became
wary of us because we were Hindu. A few fights broke out between friends. It
wasn’t the elderly – they were sensible. The youth of today, their blood boils
quicker and they don’t hesitate to kill.’

Mohan and Anjali looked at one
another. This story was not unfamiliar.

The woman continued as if in a
trance. ‘As tension grew, so did the arguments. The musalmaans told us they
couldn’t wait for Pakistan to be born. They said they hated us and they would
be going to a new motherland – their own country. They spat on India’s soil,’
her eyes blazed with loathing.

‘We have kept you long enough,’
Anjali said. ‘Thank you for the food.’

The woman grabbed Anjali’s ankle
as she stood.

 
‘No, please stay! You cannot go. I am scared.
Please, please stay until the morning.’

‘Of course, behna, you will be
safe,’ Mohan said after Anjali nodded her approval.

Mohan kept a tight lookout at
the front of the house. The children had fallen asleep and Anjali helped the
woman to clean up.

‘May I ask your name?’ Anjali
asked the woman.

‘I am Jayshree, what is your
name, beta?’

‘Anjali and he is Mohan.’

‘God bless you. May you have
many children.’

Anjali shook her head. ‘We are
not together – I mean we are not married. Mohan ji rescued me...I was lucky...’

‘I see,’ the woman said.

‘How did your husband die?’
Anjali asked quietly, fully aware of the answer but she wanted the woman to
unburden her heart.

‘The Musalmaans came into the
village one night, maybe two in the morning. We were asleep. I heard shouting
and a loud crash. I smelled smoke – the house was on fire! My husband managed
to stop it from spreading. I still remember my heart thumping loud in my chest.
We went outside and the horrifying screams began.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Anjali meant it.

‘My husband was killed in front
of me and my children, cut open by those monsters. He had gone to rescue a
crying child. The mother came and took her child; I remember she was covered in
blood. Well, the