After the Storm (10 page)

‘Excuse me?’ Vicky stood up with hands on her hips and glared down at Gurpreet. ‘You expect us girls to
serve you?’ She shook her right hand. ‘You’ve got hands and feet. Get your own food.’

‘That’s not fair, Vicky,’ said Gurpreet. ‘We’ve been chivalrous for our part. We carried the hamper, rugs, everything, all the way from the jeep. We even went and gathered firewood. It’s only fair that you two serve the food.’

‘Yes, how is it you girls never helped us carry all this? Or collect the wood and light the fire?’ added Jatin.

‘Stop arguing. Let’s eat,’ said Mili, opening the lids of all the boxes in the hamper.

The smell of home-made food distracted everyone. There were parathas with fried potatoes, black lentils, chickpeas cooked in khada masala and loads of pickled onions. But what made Vicky’s mouth water was the sight of chargrilled chicken.

‘A meal without a non-vegetarian dish is not a proper meal,’ Vicky stated, taking a second helping of the chicken.

‘Try the dhal. It’s out of this world,’ said Mili.

‘How can you like dhal? They are all the same and so bland,’ said Vicky.

‘No they’re not,’ Mili retorted. Pointing to her plate she said, ‘This here is ma ki dhal – dark, mysterious and spicy. Then you have the yellow toor dhal which is bright and sunny, and not to forget the shy pink masoor dhal. How can you say they are all the same?’

‘You’ve lost it, Mils,’ Vicky said as she looked at Mili and shook her head. ‘You really have. Hostel food is affecting your brains.’

With a ‘huh’, Mili turned her back to Vicky and carried on eating.

‘Did anyone read the newspaper this morning?’ Gurpreet asked, looking up from his plate for a moment. ‘I don’t understand Gandhi’s stance on the war. He says he doesn’t want to raise an independent India from the ashes of Britain. Now, whoever thinks of being considerate to the enemy, other than Gandhi?’

‘But surely you don’t support that fascist Hitler?’ said Jatin.

‘No, I don’t,’ replied Gurpreet. ‘But that doesn’t mean that to fight one evil, we support another evil.’

‘Hmm. I too am beginning to lose my faith in Congress,’ said Jatin.

‘Stop talking politics,’ Mili whined. ‘It’s boring.’

‘Jatin, we need to identify the students who are serious about supporting us in our struggle and take them to meet Guruji. He wants to train some of them to make bombs.’

‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Vicky, who had been hitherto engrossed in watching a handful of ants. They had appeared out of nowhere and were laboriously moving the crumbs on her plate onto their backs. She wanted to kill them but Mili would kill her before she could do that.

Looking questioningly at Jatin, Gurpreet asked, ‘Shall we tell them?’

Jatin nodded his assent.

Gurpreet looked around and lowered his voice. ‘We are part of an organisation called KFF – Kishangarh Freedom Fighters. We support the Congress in its bid to gain our country’s freedom.’

‘Oh,’ said Vicky.

‘You don’t approve?’ Gurpreet asked, his face ashen.

‘I don’t really care.’

‘You don’t
care
?’ Gurpreet looked at her incredulously. ‘How can you be indifferent when the whole country is grip—’

‘Look,’ Vicky said. ‘All my relatives – both English and Indian – deserted us when we needed them the most. Why should I care?’

A hush fell over the group.

‘Anyone for some cake?’ chirped Mili. She had just discovered an unopened box at the bottom of the picnic basket.

Gandhi, the Congress and the freedom struggle were forgotten as everyone bit into the freshly baked fruit cake. Soon every single crumb in the hamper had been eaten. The rubbish had been collected and a quiet lull descended over the satiated group. Gurpreet lit up his cigarette. Mili and Jatin sat around the fire, speaking in murmurs.

It was quite dark now. Vicky had found a smooth, round rock. Using it as a pillow, she lay on the grass looking up at the stars above. It was a clear night and not a single cloud could be seen in the sky. She smiled to herself as she remembered her conversation with Gurpreet. Funny thing, though – she had never spoken to anyone, other than Mili, about herself before. What was it about him? Last night she had even dreamt of him. They were attending some kind of a fancy dress party. And Gurpreet kept thanking her and saying how much he was enjoying himself. Vicky sat up abruptly. Was she in love? No. She wasn’t the sissy type to fall in love.
They were just great friends. Like Mili and she were. She enjoyed his company. He made her laugh. But he could also be sensitive and serious as she had just discovered. And yes, she did feel flattered when he complimented her. But that was all.

But then – what about the dream? A sound coming from the road made her look over her shoulder. She saw a palanquin. A girl with blonde hair was peering through the curtains. Was that Angel? But before Vicky could ascertain if it was indeed Angel, the curtains had been closed and the palanquin-bearers were huffing up the road.

Mili and Vicky walked quietly up the Hide-and-Seek Road. The flowers and blades of grass were drooping sleepily under the weight of the dewdrops. The wind, however, was fresh and wide awake. They entered the hostel building through the back door of a toilet, left ajar for the purpose. It was about seven in the morning and the other hostel inmates had just started to stir. Mili turned white as she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor. ‘Who can that be, so early in the morning?’

Vicky clutched her hand. ‘Listen, if it’s the warden, we tell her we just got back. From our guardian’s house. We forgot to take a change of clothes, that’s why we had to come back early. All right?’

‘Yes. But my clothes have a smoky smell,’ whispered Mili.

‘The warden’s not going to come and sniff you,’ Vicky answered.

It wasn’t the warden, but Angel. Mili heaved a sigh of relief as she watched Angel wipe her face on a towel and put away her toothbrush.

‘Thank goodness it’s you, not the warden,’ Vicky blurted.

‘Don’t worry, she’ll be here soon,’ said Angel, looking at them with a mocking smile on her face.

Vicky darted a quick look at Mili before asking warily, ‘What d’you mean?’

‘Where were you two last night?’ Angel asked.

‘At our guardian’s, of course,’ replied Vicky.

‘Really?’ Angel twirled a lock of her hair with her forefinger. ‘Save your lies for the warden, sweetheart.’ Perching herself on the edge of the bed, Angel folded her arms, then looked at both Mili and Vicky. ‘Look, you two are in big trouble. I thought I’d better warn you.’

‘Why? W-what happened?’ Mili stuttered.

‘I told the warden,’ said Angel, smiling maliciously. ‘I had to come back to the hostel last night as Aunt had taken ill. And I saw you on my way here. I thought it my duty to inform her.’

‘So it
was
you in the palanquin last night.’

‘Yes, I saw everything. The bonfire, the boys. And you two behaving like hussies—’

‘Mind your language,’ Vicky retorted.

‘Well, I thought it might help if you knew what was in store for you beforehand. But since you don’t seem to appreciate my good intentions, I shall be off.’

‘Good intentions indeed,’ muttered Vicky through clenched teeth.

Mili pursed her lips. If there was one person Mili hated more than Uncle George at the moment, it was Angel.

Mili and Vicky knocked timidly on Raven’s door. Without looking up, he gestured to them to come in and sit down. Mili bit her thumbnail as she looked towards his desk. He was hidden behind a pile of books and reports, and reams of paper. She hastily lowered her gaze as he looked up.

‘You two seem rather fond of my office,’ he said.

Silence. Without looking up, Mili stole a sideways look at Vicky. She was staring straight ahead at the cross on an otherwise bare wall.

‘I believe you two were absconding from the hostel last night?’ Raven asked.

The two of them did not answer but hung their heads.

‘I will take your silence as a yes,’ said Raven. ‘Do you realise the gravity of your crime?’ His voice rose as he said this. He got up and walked over to the window. Folding his arms across his chest, he looked out, his back towards them.

The two girls sat up straight and waited with bated breath for him to speak again.

‘You’re not little children any more. You are young girls. How old are you?’

‘I’m sixteen and Mili is seventeen,’ Vicky replied.

‘Do you know what a young girl staying out all night with two boys implies?’ asked Raven.

Mili and Vicky averted their gaze.

‘Do you or do you not?’ Raven asked again. ‘Answer me.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Mili and Vicky answered meekly.

‘But sir,’ added Vicky, ‘we didn’t do anything of the sort.’

‘I know,’ said Raven, his voice softening. ‘But the fact remains – you broke the hostel rules and you could get suspended or even expelled for that. Don’t you girls ever think about the future? Tomorrow you’ll be engaged to be married. What’ll happen if your in-laws hear of this incident?’

Sitting down, Raven put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. He spoke again. ‘I gave you two a warning last time. I thought you’d improve.’

Mili shifted uncomfortably. He was staring down at them.

‘Sorry, sir,’ they said in unison, their voices barely audible.

‘This time you’ve gone too far. I’m afraid the matter is no longer in my hands. It has reached the vice chancellor,’ he said.

Mili’s heart began to pound and she chewed her thumbnail furiously.

‘Believe me, you two are in very serious trouble,’ he said quietly.

Vicky finally spoke. ‘We weren’t the only ones. Gurpreet and Jatin were also there.’

‘Don’t worry,’ replied Raven. ‘I’ll speak to them. But remember, they’re boys. They don’t have a Cinderella time at their hostel. But you girls …’

‘Sir, but that’s not fair,’ Vicky grumbled. ‘We’re going to be expelled while the boys go scot-free – for the same crime?’

‘Who said life was fair?’ Raven said. ‘Is it fair that you two, who have absolutely no interest in studies, should be sitting here comfortably while an intelligent girl like Vidushi has to rot in an ashram? Tell me, is that fair?’

Mili grimaced and looked down again.

‘Well, unfortunately, that’s how it is,’ said Raven.

‘Yes, poor unfortunate us,’ grumbled Vicky.

‘You two? Unfortunate?’ Raven raked his fingers through his hair and looked at them incredulously. ‘I find it hard to believe what you just said.’ He got up, thrust his hands in his pockets, took a few angry steps towards the door, then turned back abruptly and gave them a hard stare. ‘Do you know how fortunate you are to have parents who are willing to send you to a school like STH? How many girls would die for a chance like this – girls like Vidushi? They’d love to change places with you …’

Mili looked out of the window. Once Raven Sir started scolding, he went on and on and on. A lot like Bauji. Beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead. Gosh, how was she going to face Bauji if they were expelled from school and sent back home in shame?

There was a knock on the door. It was Bahadur. He handed a note to Raven who read it, nodded briefly at Bahadur, then turned to Mili and Vicky. ‘Prof. Keating would like to see you in his room at 3 p.m.’

‘Prof. Keating? The vice chancellor?’ Mili swallowed hard.

‘Yes, the very same,’ replied Raven. ‘You may go to your class now. And make sure you’re on time. Prof. Keating hates to be kept waiting.’

Mili looked at the clock in dismay. It was only eleven o’clock. The next four hours dragged painfully. Mili felt as though they were being subjected to the Chinese water torture. Each tick of the clock felt like a cold drop of water dripping on her forehead. At ten minutes to three, she looked at her friend. Vicky got up and made the sign of a throat being slit with her forefinger. Quietly they left the classroom.

School was over. Mili and Vicky dragged themselves to Uncleji’s Tuck Shop and sat in silence for a while. Even the smell of freshly fried onion and cauliflower pakoras could not whet their appetite today.

‘That Angel!’ Vicky finally spat out. ‘If it hadn’t been for her we wouldn’t have got caught. The warden wouldn’t have checked the register. Nobody could have seen us. No one knows there’s a dirt track behind that thicket. The warden has often seen us sitting on the mound. She wouldn’t have suspected a thing.’

‘If it wasn’t for Raven Sir …’ said Mili, her voice breaking, still shaken from all that had transpired that day.

Vicky put her arms around Mili’s shoulders as she pushed back her glasses. ‘At the picnic, when I was talking to Gurpreet …’

‘Yes?’ Mili’s eyes lit up. ‘What were you two talking about?’

Just then, as though on cue, Jatin and Gurpreet walked into the tuck shop. Vicky winked at Mili, and they both looked down, their faces grim, as the lads came towards them.

Jatin asked, ‘What happened?’

‘What we had feared,’ replied Vicky.

‘What?’ asked Gurpreet.

‘Yes,’ replied Mili. ‘We’ve been expelled.’

‘No!’ Jatin and Gurpreet spoke together.

‘We were first grilled by Ravan,’ said Vicky. ‘Then four hours later by the vice chancellor.’

Mili cleared her throat and said in a gruff voice, ‘“I had a meeting with your principal, your warden and the dean of your hostel this morning and this is what we decided …”’ Mili paused and looked at Gurpreet and Jatin. They had turned white.

‘Damn,’ ground out Gurpreet, banging his fist on the table. ‘This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have coaxed you to come for the picnic.’

‘Does this mean you’re going back to Mohanagar?’ asked Jatin.

Mili began to giggle.

Vicky gave a broad grin as she pushed back her glasses. ‘We were let off. With a warning.’

While Jatin slouched with relief, Gurpreet got up and shouted, ‘Balle balle,’ and slapped Vicky across her back.

Vicky turned white and glared at him. ‘I feel as though I’ve been hit by a hammer. So is this what Jatin has to endure everyday? Poor thing.’

‘Yes, poor me,’ said Jatin.

Gurpreet tried to change the subject. ‘So tell us, what exactly happened?’

Mili mimicked Prof. Keating again: ‘“Since this is the first time you have committed a crime of this magnitude,
we’ve decided not to expel you and give you one last chance.”’

‘What if we had been?’ said Vicky. ‘Mummum would’ve been shattered. She was so proud of me when I got admission. She even threw a party.’

‘If we’d been expelled, Bauji would have married me off straight away, to the first prince he came across,’ said Mili, shuddering involuntarily at the thought.

‘And can you imagine?’ said Vicky. ‘It was Ravan who put in a good word and saved us …’

‘See? I keep saying that professor is a good man,’ said Jatin.

‘So?’ retorted Gurpreet, his eyes flashing. ‘I don’t care if he’s good or bad. He’s an Angrez. And I’m wary of
all
firangis.’

Mili sat on her bed finishing her home assignment. She looked out of the window and absent-mindedly put her pen in her mouth. It was raining again. It had been raining incessantly for the last three weeks. Ever since they’d got back from the picnic. The raindrops were not big, heavy drops like the ones in Mohanagar during the monsoons, but millions of little drops racing each other to hit the ground. They were ricocheting off the road, the rooftops, the street lamp, at breakneck speed. She could almost hear them shout ‘wheee’ as they slid down the roof into the gutter. And the raindrops bouncing off the street lamp looked beautiful – like sparklers on Diwali night.

The monsoon rains had also brought with them the leeches, Mili realised with horror, as she noticed a
red stain on her leg. She sprang out of bed and began dabbing the spot with a wet cloth.

Vicky rushed into the room, panting and wet, leaving a muddy trail on the floor. She threw her arms around Mili’s neck and exclaimed, ‘Guess what, Mili. I’m in love. I’m so much in love.’

‘You, in love? I don’t believe it,’ Mili chuckled. ‘I think I know who he is,’ she added, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

‘You know Gurpreet …’ Vicky said as she dried her hair with a towel.

‘Yes!’

‘Well, I went with him to his aunt’s place …’ Vicky said as she sat down on the chair and began taking off her shoes.

Sitting down on the floor, at her feet, Mili clasped Vicky’s hands and said, ‘Yes, go on.’

‘You won’t believe what I saw there. Their dog has given birth to six adorable puppies. I fell for them.’

‘So you’re in love with a puppy?’ said Mili as she smacked her forehead and shook her head.

‘The youngest one is so tiny,’ said Vicky, as she cupped her hands together to show how small he was. ‘He looks like a snowball. He sleeps all day. Doesn’t even wake up to feed himself. And when he does, he gets bullied and shoved aside. But my favourite is this fat—’

Mili sighed. Alas, her tomboy friend was never going to fall in love. She was certain of that now. ‘Don’t run off to see them on Sunday,’ she said. ‘Remember, you promised to go shopping with me?’

‘Yes. We’ll leave early. I forgot to tell you the best
part. Gurpreet’s aunt has promised to let me take my favourite one to Mohanagar. During the holidays.’

Mili wasn’t listening any more. She pointed to the floor. ‘You’d better clean that up before our guardian Angel arrives and starts rattling off the hostel rules.’

‘Yes, I’d better,’ said Vicky with a grin, stepping out of her wet skirt.