Muskaan

Chapter 3

 Chapter 3

I trugged back home. Confused. Hurt. I washed and scrubbed the filth off my body. Thinking of the woman while the cold water trickled off my back. By the time I was done, I had developed a strong sense of hatred for her.

How dare she speak so rudely to an Englishman ?

" Don't worry about that sir", Jacob said when I told him about my encounter. " There are a few people here who think ill about us. But not to worry. The government is well capable of managing stirs like that. What country doesn't have rebels?"

"But that girl..." I gritted my teeth.

"Sir, It would be best if you forget about her. May I suggest something? The night is young and there's a pub nearby. Perhaps you would be interested in a drink? "

"A pub you say? Well, is Emma ready to go?"

"She always is."

We drove to the pub, Jacob and I.  It was a white building. Shaded windows. A wooden board with the word " Tom's Pub" nailed to a the wall. It was crammed up with sweaty men, policemen who probably snuck off from duty and good husbands who didn’t drink.

“What will ya have?” ,  asked the beefy man behind the counter.

“Some whisky, and Sir what about you?” Jacob turned to me.

“Do me eyes deceive me? Or is that Jordan Hunt?”

I turned around to find myself facing Charles, my pal from London.

“Charlie?  Ha! You in India?” I exclaimed.

Charlie was a writer, working for the London Times. He and I had been friends as long as I could remember.

“I’m working. Doing a story on Gandhi.”

“Gandhi? That half naked madman?”

“Now, now, Jordan, He ain’t that bad. I find him to be quite an interesting man.”

“He’s a menace.”

“You think he’s a menace? At least he’s not violent like the others.”

“True.” I thought back on my encounter with the girl. “Wait till you hear this.”

I began telling about my day at the market. By the time I was finished, I had quite an audience.

“I know that girl!” said a policeman. “A troublemaker, that one is. Threw a stone at me last week. Little she-devil!”

“Didn’t you arrest her?”

“Tried to, but she got away.”

“We’ll get her next time.”

“Boys! She’s just a child. Let her be.” Jacob was going soft as usual.

“A child, that darkie? PAH!” the policeman stared spitefully at Jacob.”Good night men. Got to get back on duty.”

Jacob and I left next. The midnight sky was peaceful unlike my very much disturbed mind. I shifted my thoughts from the girl to Anne.  If Anne was here, she would have slapped that insolent girl.

I slept off imagining what she would do to that stinking Darkie .

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Time passed quickly. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Riots grew common. Fights.  Speeches.  And peace,  a mirage in the distant future. But we hardly felt the tremors. Life went on as usual. Golf, cricket, pub nights, occasional outings, hunting trips and the agonizing wait for Anne’s reply. She had gone on holiday, promising me an answer when she got back.

“I need to clear my head.” She had said.

Charlie is still here. Working on his story. He’s been tagging that Gandhi fellow all over India. Recording every move and copying down every word that falls from his mouth.   

And Darkie, well, no show. She’s disappeared. Good thing too. 

It was Sunday. On Jacob’s insistence, I went to church. Let me be frank. I don’t believe in God.  I don’t like the idea of someone controlling my life. I don’t think he exists. God is just a figment of man’s imagination.

Three hours later, after the boring service, I was on the streets.  I saw a handicrafts stall and moved towards it. Sculptures of gods and goddesses and exquisite jewellery were set in rows. These beads would look good on Anne's neck ,I  thought as I fingered the a  peacock blue necklace with tiny flowers etched on the beads.

"How much?", I asked the seller.

"One rupaya  Saab."

"One! That's too much!"

"No, Saab. Not too much."

"25 paise."

"50, Saab. No change.", he said firmly.

After losing to the man, who was much experienced in getting what he wanted than me, my wallet  weighed fifty paise less. I spent the rest of the day wandering from shop to shop, street to street and alley to alley, exploring every nook and corner of the bazaar. The sun rose to his throne. Noon. My face was wet with sweat, as Surya, the Hindu sun god poured out his wrath on me. Probably because I don’t give a damn about him. My eyes hurt as i tried t o decipher the strangely beautiful alphabets of the Majhi dialect, painted on the wooden boards that hung on tree branches and in front of shops, thankful to my father for teaching me the language. I wandered here and there. From one shop to another. I ended up in a deserted alley.

A  strange pricking sensation poked me at the back of my head. You know, the feeling that you have when there's someone behind you, the feeling that persuades you to believe that monsters are real and are about to pounce on you. That's exactly how I felt. I turned slightly and saw two figures a stone throw away. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat, I walked at  a quick pace, my heart beating like a drum gone crazy. 

I scolded myself for not taking heed to Jacob's advice. I glanced back to see if I was still being followed. Like guardian angels or should I say guardian demons, they were right behind me. I kept moving. A turn came up at my left and I took it. A door squeaked. A hand grabbed me. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the sudden light. There was a trembling hand on my mouth. I traced it to an arm and then to a face. It was her!

“Darkie!”   It slipped from my mouth before I even knew it.

 Her soft brown eyes  filled up with disgust. She placed her long forefinger on her pink lips and motioned me to be quiet. We were in a warehouse. A solitary oil lamp hung from the roof. Boarded windows decorated the wall. Crates of vegetables were strewn about, giving out a rotten smell. There was a shuffling of feet outside and then silence. Minutes passed. She tiptoed to the nearest window and peeped through the space between the boards. I watched her shoulders fall as she let out her breath which she was holding for how long, only God knows.

 She turned  her fiery eyes towards me and spat the words, "Get out of my country!"

She slammed the door leaving me  in utter confusion. 

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