Thursday 25 December 2014

Summer Showers.....Chapter 2





Chapter 2


April 2006­---Somewhere in Mahabaleshwar
Samar

Every means of physical, mental, and emotional torture when used is done so to destroy the spirits, the resolve, the willpower of another person. Of all these, the mental torture is the most spirit breaking. Physical trauma is a cakewalk against the horrific terrors the mind can imagine. All the pain afflicted on your body is tuned out by the mind when the heart bleeds at the thought of the one you love the most in this world getting hurt.

It’s hard to imagine they have the same blood as hers running in their veins. She is nothing like them. His heart bleeds to finally know the extent of trauma she endured throughout her young life while living under the cruel despotism of the father-son duo. Yet, she always smiled for him. She is the bravest person in this world.

They will pay. He promises himself. They will pay for the sorry life they gave her.

They come one by one...sometimes together... at all hours of the day, and they make you believe all sorts of things. They threaten you by gloating about the power they have on her. They tell you how she was punished since her childhood whenever she went against the rules...punishments about which you never knew because she never told you. They make you believe the lies....what is not true, what you know cannot be true. They say she is getting married. Lies...all lies. “Don’t listen to them.” Your heart cries out. “She is fine. She is smiling. She is waiting for you. Just as you asked her to.” But then they tell you that they found her. They show you blood...her blood...a lock of her hair caked in her blood...soft hair that still carries her lemon and floral scent. They tell those lies so many times that you finally cave in and accept that there might be some truth in their malevolent verbal attacks. And you suffer for those lies like they were the truth. They try to break you. They tell you that she was not given any medical help because you tried to heal her with your promises of flight to freedom...and you believe them. You believe them, yet you hang on, if only for that promise...that one promise....

**************************************

May 2003—Jayswal Estate


“When?”
“The day you turn eighteen.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”

Fifteen-year-old Pari sighed and snuggled closer to him, closing her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. Samar tightened his arm around her. His Pari never demanded more than that. A Promise. That’s all. A single word spoken by him was enough to always make her happy. Happy that he would be her knight...that he would rescue her...that he would take her out of this cage. She trusted him completely. Her trust was his gift. Yet, Samar was restless whenever he made that promise. In his heart he knew and understood a fundamental truth of life: A promise is like the cloud in hot summer, which cools somewhat but does not have the power to completely erase the lingering heat. But showers in the middle of a hot wave have the miracle of fulfilment in each falling drop of rain. He needed to bring those showers of freedom in Pari’s life. Three more years and then no one could stop him.

Samar dropped a kiss on her head and settled back on the pillow with his arm around her. Pari sighed in her sleep and threw her leg across his ankles, snaring him in her thin, soft grip. He smiled as his thoughts went back two summers. He hadn’t seen his little Pari for eleven months. He was dying to be with her. He could only manage a week off as he had a number of college entrance exams to appear for after his 12th board exams got over. Karan and Kushal had their coaching classes, something that Samar’s nani couldn’t afford for him. So, they had stayed back in Chandigarh...which meant there was no place for Samar to stay in Mahabaleshwar.

However, that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that he had a promise to keep. He never tried to analyse or ponder over the unusual connection he shared with Pari. Only she mattered. Everything else was inconsequential. Over the past year, they had spoken daily on phone. At the end of every call, Pari would remind him of his promise.

He knew there was pain behind the daily reminders. Pain of a lonely life when she should be out there laughing, making friends, going out for parties, having fun, and living life to the fullest. He also knew that his Pari was courage personified. In that thin, petite frame she packed a bountiful of heroism that was just a hint of the kindred spirit she was. Yes, life sucked sometimes, but she was not a whiner. Not once had he heard her complain. She hung in there without skirting around. She faced the present with a smile because she now had a future to hope for, a future to weave dreams about, a future to wait for. A future that he had promised her. He knew that even after three years of a deep friendship, she still hid a lot from him. He still didn’t have a clear picture regarding her father and brother, or for that matter, her mother. He still didn’t know to what extent they hurt her. Because they hurt her...of that he was as sure as he was of the sun rising the next day. He had noticed bruising, faded marks of injuries, abrasions, and welts. She always evaded his questions...saying, “Samar, we have such less time together. I want to talk of only good things with you.”

He had told nani that he was going to Ambala for a week to a friend’s place. He had then taken out all his savings earned from a part-time job in a car mechanic’s garage and taken off to meet Pari...taking lifts from truck drivers. When he reached Mahabaleshwar, he had walked into a small garage, which was near the Jayswal Estate, and requested for work and a place to keep his bag. He planned to eat and use the washroom at the nearby bus depot. However, he got lucky when the garage owner offered him the living quarters, a small shack, at the back of the garage. It belonged to his chief mechanic who had gone to his home village for a family wedding.

Samar’s fingers absently rubbed Pari’s arm that lay on his chest as he remembered how Pari had rushed to his arms the moment he had stepped onto the balcony at night...sobbing and laughing at the same time. He had planned to stay a couple of hours and then go back. He knew it was risky to walk around the Mehra Estate in the day time because of the security there. No one was supposed to know he was in Mahabaleshwar. If that meant he could have only few hours of the five nights he was there, then so be it. He would take whatever he got.

He could never lie to Pari. So when she asked him where he was staying, he had to tell her.

She had immediately taken her angry posture, fists on her hips, shoulders slouching and eyes narrowing, which only made her look so adorable that it took all of his self-control to not take her over his shoulders and dance circles around the room till she squealed with laughter. The moment that picture had formed in his mind, he promised himself he’d do it before he left. But at that moment, he had to deal with her delightful anger.
He hid his amusement as she huffed, “You...you...you....”
He quirked his brows and whispered with a half smile, “Yes, Pari...me. Me...what?”
In her anger she banged her fists against her hips and spoke a little loudly, “You Samarjit...”
Before she could say anything further, she heard Leela dai’s voice and at the same time the door knob turned. She looked at Samar in horror as he whispered a quick “Smile Pari and stay calm” before diving under the bed.
The very next moment Leela dai entered with a frown on her face, “Praneeta, I heard your voice. Who is Samarjit?”
Pari gulped and stammered, “Sa..samar..jit? Who..who is that Leela dai?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. I heard you quite clearly. As if you were talking with somebody. And why are you awake at this hour?”
Pari looked wildly at Leela dai and then at her bed, her eyes falling on the book she was reading earlier. She moved swiftly and picked it up. Straightening with a smile, she rambled breathlessly, “Oh, I see! I was reading aloud. You know I do that, Leela dai...don’t you? It was what you heard. It’s a P.G. Wodehouse book, and I said “somewhere Jeeves” and not Samarjit. See this page. Here it is.” She extended the book, knowing fully well that Leela dai couldn’t read English.
“Alright. Alright. It’s much past your bedtime. Switch off the lights and go to bed.”
“OK, Leela dai. I will. Goodnight!!”

Leela dai harrumphed and swept out of the room, closing the door behind her. Pari ran and bolted it immediately, leaning her forehead against it in relief.

She turned as Samar’s whisper floated to her, “Wow! You are a smart girl Pari. You think on your feet. I like that. This’ll help you, even when I am not there.”

“That will never happen.” She whispered back as she walked toward him. She reached up to kiss his cheek and then hugged him, “It will never happen because you will always be there with me.”
That night they had sat on the bed cross-legged, facing each other, knee to knee, holding hands, being at peace. They whispered and talked and laughed. Pari told him all that she had learnt through the year. She told him all that she had read about art, about how a painting is finished and how it is preserved. For someone so young, her knowledge about art was phenomenal. She showed him her sketchbook. He could see how she had improved. Though the only knowledge he had of art was what Pari told him, yet he had no doubt about her talent. She was a natural. When he came to the last page, his heart swelled, missed a beat, stopped, and then accelerated thunderously. His spirits soared. His eyes swam with an emotion so profound that it left him reeling. She had sketched him....his smiling face through a hole in the stone wall. It was a perfect portrait.

He heard her whisper, “Do you like it?” He looked up at her blankly. She was biting the end of her lower lip. She always did that when she was nervous. His finger reached out to release her lip and then stroke it lightly, a reflexive action.

“Samar? Say something.” Her voice was almost fearful now.

His vision blurred as he cupped her face and caressed her cheeks, “Pari! My sweet little Pari! I am not saying anything because I don’t know what to say.
She relaxed and smiled teasingly, “Well, you can say you like it.”
“Not like it, Pari. I love it. Almost as much as I love whatever you do and say. Pari, I...”

He couldn’t finish as a flying tornado hit him and twirled her arms around his neck before kissing his cheek with a loud smack, “Oh, thank you, thank you...thank you.”
He caught her in his arms and laughed gaily. He loved this free, unrestrained side of Pari. She pushed him back on the bed till he was lying on his back. She then lay down beside him and asked him where he was staying.

He told her. That’s when Pari put her foot down and refused to let him go to sleep in a shack. She could be real stubborn if she wanted to be.

So, he caved in and slept next to her....every night of the five nights of that year and every night of the next year’s weeklong visit and every night so far of this visit. He loved her soft, warm body next to him...loved how she attached herself to him in her sleep...loved to feel the sense of peace flow through him when her steady breathing moved in harmony with the beat of his heart.

*********************************************

April 2006­---Somewhere in Mahabaleshwar
Samar

A searing pain through the skull jolts me awake. I don’t know how long I passed out. Hours…a day…two days. I have no idea. Every bone of my body hurts. Each nerve writhes in agony. Every cut in my skin burns as if salt had been stuffed into it. I can barely see through my swollen eyes. I don’t know if I can walk if I have to. But I have to…no question there. Just don’t know when. For her. She is out there. God knows what these monsters, the dictators of her fate, have done to her. They say they found her out. I am not going to listen to their bloody lies anymore. They don’t know what she means to me. They don’t know me. For once, destiny had favoured me when I found her through that hole, making me a winner. However, at the moment, I seem to have lost out on the luck when I needed it the most.

Lady luck sided with us for six long years. For six years she let us be together without anyone else getting any whiff of our togetherness. Then just like that everything changed. One minute I am looking at a happy future of bright sunshine, cooling showers, and colourful rainbows….and the very next moment a dark cloud has covered the sun, and now the future is looking down, sneering at me, saying, “Alright Samar, you had your fun. But this is where you part with your heart. This is how it is going to be hereon. The hole will remain, but your smiling angel won’t be there at the other end to fill it with her beauty. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Do about it? Hell, is that even a question? As soon as possible I am going to get out of here and find her and rewrite our future…and this time…this time no one else will have their say.

************************************

14 April 2006—Jayswal Estate

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains and fell on the bed. Pari squinted and then smiled as she came awake. Morning at last. The day was finally here. Her eighteenth birthday. She flung the duvet aside and jumped off the bed. Hands over the head she broke into an impromptu jig and immediately winced, rubbing her upper arms, which were sour and ached badly from where her brother had held her and pushed, following it up with a slap, while her father sat and worked through his files, not even bothering to lift his head and give her a glance. All this because, after a giving it a lot of thought, yesterday she had gone to her father’s study and had dared to request him to allow her to register for 12th board exams. He had packed off Miss Sinha six months back saying a girl does not need more tutoring than this. He shouted at Miss Sinha when she suggested that Praneeta take the board exams under the special home tutoring provisions.
“You have some nerve. Have you forgotten that girls are supposed to be neither seen nor heard? You have to do what is asked of you. How dare you ask for anything? Hasn’t babuji given you enough? He has fed you, clothed, you, and even employed a teacher for you. Now you want more? You are such an ungrateful girl.” Her brother had fumed.
“Just like her mother.” Her father had finally spoken. He stared at her with the same maniacal, cruel look in his eyes as his son, “Girl, I will only say this once, so listen good. The only time you get to step out of those gates is when you have been married...which will be soon. Now, go to your room and stay there. Your meals will be sent there. Don’t come down till you are summoned.”

Mention of marriage had unsettled her somewhat but it had not worried her. She had complete faith in Samar. He was going to get her out of here before she was given off in marriage. There was no question of her marrying anyone else. She belonged heart and soul to her Samar. She had belonged to him since the day he had smiled at her and had called her his “Little Pari.” He was her first friend, her first crush, and her first love...her only love. He was her teacher, her mentor, her guide. If God has blessed her with a long future, then Samar was going to be that future. He was and always will be her universe.

Pari slipped her feet into the tattered slippers and walked to the window, pushing the curtains so that sunlight swept inside and brightened the room. She then walked over to the small bookshelf and took out her sketchbook. She opened the book to the last portrait she had sketched of Samar. She ran her fingers through it reverentially and bent down to drop a soft kiss. She had caught the brooding eyes and pensive expression in the sketch as he had looked at her before he dropped down the balcony. That was the last she had seen him….three years ago.

She remembered that day vividly.  It had turned out be the most momentous day of her life. They had sneaked out through the wall in the afternoon and had spent glorious two hours at their favorite spot on the mountain top. They had strolled along the ridgeline, chatting, their fingers laced together. He made her laugh. He always made her laugh. She had learnt to laugh silently during their phone conversations, but there on the mountain, her abandoned laughter echoed around the valley. Samar had stared at her. Then he had walked up to her slowly. There was a look in his eyes that had caused her body to tingle with an unknown awareness. She had gone still, in anticipation of something significant that was going to happen to her, to them.

He had taken the last step and stopped…so close that she felt the whiff of his cologne enter her body and spread a shiver through her. She held her breath as he looked at her once, as if asking her permission. Whatever he saw in her eyes must have convinced him because the very next moment he lowered his head and pressed his lips on hers…gently brushing over hers…up and down…left to right. Warm. A little moist. Her eyes widened as the fact echoed through her senses that he was kissing her…awakening in her feelings that she had only read about in the books.

Her first kiss.

Her toes curled in her shoes, and a heat crept from her neck to her temples. He wasn’t even touching her, yet her whole body was thrumming with awareness and singing a song never heard before. Suddenly she realized that he too was looking into her eyes. Mortified, she shut her eyes tight. Wrong move. Samar lifted his face, causing a grave sense of loss rushing in. She made a protesting whimpering sound. Lifting herself on her toes she pressed her lips back on his and tried to move them up and down, and felt him smile. She peeked through one eye and saw his eyes stare back with…with…she couldn’t label his expressions. Yet, she knew there had to be more. This couldn’t be just it. Even Jane Eyre had more. She wanted more.

She felt Samar hold her arms and push her back a fraction before resting his forehead against hers. He rubbed his nose against hers and whispered, “Not yet, my little Pari. You are still too young for the real one.”

She frowned a little but was too overwhelmed to speak or ask what he meant.

He slid his cheek against hers and whispered, “I had to do it Pari. I had to take your taste with me and leave my imprint on you.”
She finally found her voice, “What do you mean?”
“Come with me.”

He took her hand and sat her down on the stub of a tree trunk. Then he knelt in front of her. Raising a hand he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. They sat gazing at each other for awhile, before Samar spoke, “Pari, I may not be able to come next year or the year after.”
Shock made her throat go dry and a chill engulfed her. Was he leaving her for good? She croaked haltingly, “Wh…why?”
He gripped her hands, “I shall be going abroad for further studies. Karan/Kushal’s grandfather is sponsoring my education. It’s a gift to my nanima for forty years of service to their family. It was what she requested when he asked what she would like to have. This is my chance. I have to do this, Pari. For us. For our future.”

“Our future?”

He nodded, “Our future.”

So, they had parted for three years, though their phone conversations continued. Till about eight months back…when Pari’s phone just stopped working. She hadn’t spoken to him for eight months, yet her faith and a deeper instinct told her that he was nearby, that he would keep his promise…….

*****************************************

April 2006­---Somewhere in Mahabaleshwar
Samar

The door opens. It’s the father this time. He pulls a chair and sits down. I keep a poker face and stare at him. I don’t let a single emotion cross my face. He starts talking. The more he talks, the more rancorous and vicious his words become. “Her mother too tried to escape me. She planned to go to her lover in Bikaner. Ungrateful woman. Her place was within the walls of the house. But that woman didn’t know her place. I married her so that Dharam’s needs are taken care of. But she started demanding freedom after she gave birth to that girl. She wanted her daughter to see the world. Bullshit! She wanted to meet other men. She thought she could leave me. No one leaves me. She couldn’t even cross those gates. Do you want to know what I did with her? She was a whore and she deserved the fate I gave her. Her daughter has turned out to be a whore like her mother. She warmed the bed of a swine like you. She was pure as long as she was within these walls. But now she has dug her own grave.” Something must have shown on my face, because he laughed evilly and declared, “No, I won’t kill her. But I’ll give her a fate worse than death. Tomorrow she will marry a man much older than me. She will bear him the son he so needs and then who knows what he’ll do with her. Disgusting girl. She deserves to be used like a whore. Did I tell you that her would-be husband is the kingpin of flesh trade in India? I give him the little whore and in return he pays me enough to rebuild my business. Fair trade. Don’t you think? And till that happens, you will enjoy my hospitality.”

I don’t say anything. But I memorize each and every line of that vile face. He knows I am connected to the Mehra family. What he doesn’t know is how much I have told them. He can’t take the risk of killing me. He would have to let me go. However, he would have covered his tracks. With no proof against them, I won’t be able to go to the law. But leaving me alive and setting me free will be his biggest mistake. Given a fraction of a chance, I’ll first cut off that tongue of his, which dared to spew such filth against my Pari, before I kill him. And that’s a promise.

***************************************

*[Whew! That was a tough one. :)]
**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my lovely readers. I can never thank God enough for giving me You.

To be continued……………….

Monday 8 December 2014

Summer Showers.......Chapter 1




Chapter 1

One month later.......

“You want to look for leaves?”
“Yes, Miss Sinha.”
“For what?”
“For my Science project. You asked me to pick up a topic from Botany.”
“And you decided to pick leaves? That’s too convenient.”
“Not just any leaves, Miss Sinha, but four-leaf clovers.”
“Why?”
“Because they are so rare. Normally, we see only three-leaf clovers.”
“And?”
“And...err...because they bring us luck.”
“Where did you get that nonsense from?’
“From a poem by Ella Higginson.”
Miss Sinha sighed, “Literature again. Problem with you is you read too many of those books from the library. How many times have I told you that those books are for older people?”
Pari looked down, drawing circle on the floor with the toe of her sandal, her hands behind her back, with fingers crossed for luck. She needed all the luck to pull this through.
“Please Miss Sinha. Let me do this.”
“And what do you plan to do with them after you have collected them?”
“I’ll make a scrap book. And then I’ll press a few to study the discoloration. I’ll put some in a jar of water, and when they start to grow roots, I’ll take them out and re-plant them, and then when they....”
“OK! OK! I get the idea.” Miss Sinha groaned, visibly showing her discomfiture at the very idea of an afternoon excursion around the estate. “Where do you want to go for this?”
“There.” Pari pointed out of the kitchen window, at the general direction of the vast kitchen garden. “There are some patches of clover beyond the kitchen garden, behind those bamboo grasses, near those trees.”
“Oh, alright! Fifteen minutes. That’s all. After that I need my tea. Let’s go.”
Pari looked up in horror as Miss Sinha shifted her bulky frame from the couch in a bid to get up, muttering unholy things under her breath, “Damn! Can’t she just sit in her usual place and study...she has been pattering about for the past month...as if a bloody bug has suddenly bit her....she can’t seem to sit still....running here and there...all the time...so unlike her....Damn!
“Errm! Miss Sinha.”
“WHAT?”
Pari started and took a step back at the angry snarl. “I...I was s..saying, you don’t have to come. You haven’t been well. Leela dai was saying that your gout has been bothering you again. Pl..please Mrs Sinha, I don’t want you to vex yourself for me. I am a big girl now. I can do the collection work myself. I’ll go and come back in one hour. Promise.”
“Oh yeah? And how would I know you are fine? If anything happens to you, your father....”
“I’ll be OK, Miss Sinha. I’ll wave to you every ten minutes with my red scarf, so that you know I am fine.” She saw a look of relief cross her tutor’s features and pressed home the advantage, “Please Miss Sinha. I really want to impress you with my project and want to do this on my own. It’s just a matter of one hour. No one will know. I won’t tell anyone. Please...please.”
“My God, how much you talk these days, Praneeta? I don’t remember ever hearing you string so many words together. Wait a minute. I need to think.” Miss Sinha stared out of the window...debating over the risk in her mind. One hour. One hour of complete relaxation...sounded blissful. What can happen in one hour? Nothing. After all, the girl would be inside the estate walls. It’s perfectly safe. In any case, the little mouse is too scared of the outside world to even think any adventurous thought. Most importantly, the Devil and his male spawn were out of town again on business. The man scared her, and his son was a chip of the old block...same blood...same traits...same regressive thinking...same evilry. Whoever heard of home tutoring in today’s times? If it were not for the generous salary, she would have never taken this job. Of course, there was also that other matter regarding the tuition scandal she was involved in, which cost her her school job and took away her teacher’s licence, and from which Mr Jayswal had extricated her...so...well...
“Miss Sinha?”
“Huh!” She came out from her reverie to the present. The girl awaited her permission. Why not? She sat back and nodded her assent, holding up her right index finger and saying in her most firm, no-nonsense voice, “One Hour! Not a second more.”
*******************************************

One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,
And one is for love, you know;
But God put another in for luck--
If you search, you will find where they grow.
But you must have hope, and you must have faith;
You must love and be strong; and so,
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place
Where the four-leaf clovers grow

“That was beautiful, Pari.”
“Isn’t it? I remembered the poem when you gave me the idea about the project.”
“You love reading and drawing, don’t you?”
“That’s all I have, Samar. For most of my life I have stayed within the mansion. I have no idea what the outside world is like in real life. I have never seen it...till today.”
“Not even in television?”
“I have never seen a television.” At his raised brow, she amended, “I mean I have seen one...once...in Dharam bhaiya’s room, but I’ve never watched anything on it. I am allowed to read. So I read a lot. I don’t even remember when books became my closest friends. When I wanted to speak, I read aloud. When I wanted to do something, I picked up an activity from a book.”
“Like what?”
Pari turned to give him a shy smile, “Like origami. And sketching. I am learning to draw from a book. You know, we have a huge library in the same wing where my room is. It’s my grandfather’s collection. Some of the books were added later by my mother. Reading is like an adventure for me. Within a book’s pages I can visit places and meet people and learn about the world.”
“One day I’ll take you to all the places you want to visit.”
“I don’t know, Samar. Please don’t make me wish for things I can’t have. I dream, but I don’t indulge in pipe dreams. I may be only twelve, but I know my reality.”
“That’s a cynical thought, little Pari.”
“Maybe.”
“Pari, we dream and then we set goals based on that dream. They become pipe dreams only if you don’t go after them.” He shifted and threw an arm around her shoulder. She tensed and then relaxed as an unexpected warmth spread through her. He made her feel so protected. His voice feathered over her head, the movement of his lips brushing against her hair, as he asked gently, “Let’s hear about one dream that you want to become your reality.”
She kept quiet and picked on the grass, not looking at him. He squeezed her shoulder, “C’mon, it can’t be that difficult. One dream.”
She thought for awhile and then looked up, “You said you will take me to any place I want to go when I grow up.”
“Yes. You have my word.”
“Will you take me to Bikaner?”
“Sure, I will. Promise.” Then a beat later, “Any specific reason?” One elbow on a bent-up knee, he had his forefinger pressed against his temple and the thumb on his cheek and was looking at her thoughtfully...she had come to recognize it as a very Samar-like gesture when he was thinking.

She stared at him. Should she tell him? It was her secret. If she told him, will he get angry like babuji, or, worse, will he laugh at her? No, he would never do that to her. Samar was always nice to her. He was always trying to make her wishes come true...trying to make her smile. She blinked and looked in front, at the waterfall, at its white mist hovering over the narrow valley. So far she had only seen pictures of such places, but nature was far more beautiful in real. This was paradise. Ah! Just to breathe in this open air. Samar had given her this gift, by bringing her here, giving her a feel of the real existence. He made her feel important...like a real person, and not someone who has to be tolerated because she was unfortunate to have been born.

She could never deny him anything. She would never deny him anything. It’s a promise her little heart made to her soul.
She took a deep breath and spoke, “I think I’ll find my mother there.”
“In Bikaner?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”

Okay? Just like that? He didn’t even question her. He just believed her. She had this sudden urge to put her arms around him, a feeling that by itself was strange because no one had ever hugged her and she had never hugged anyone. The only time her father and brother ever touched her was when they beat her. But this boy, a stranger till a month back, incurred all sorts of unusual feelings in her. She curbed the need to touch him and instead gave him her warmest smile, which brought a peculiar look on his face...a look that confused Pari whenever it crossed his features.

Samar flicked the tip of her nose affectionately and got up to bring the picnic hamper from the bike. As she watched him amble away, Pari’s thoughts wandered back to the day one year back. It was the first and the last time she had mentioned her mother to her father when she asked him about her, fully knowing the punishment that awaited if she so much as breathed her name. But she had to dig deep inside and find some courage to at least try to do something that would help her give some information. Sure enough, the moment she mentioned her mother, her father flew into a madman’s rage. She was slapped and beaten and put into the basement for two days without food, for crossing the forbidden line. Yet, all that the entire incident did was to strengthen her resolve to know more about the woman who gave her birth and then left soon after.

She remembered that day clearly. Miss Sinha was down with flu, so was on leave. Having got an unexpected day to herself, she had decided to do something that she had wanted to do for a long time......to teach herself to draw properly, methodically. So, she went to the library and started looking through the shelves containing books on art. She came across an art book behind two rows of books in the last shelf. When she opened it, her eyes fell on the words written below the Preface, causing her to gasp: Congratulations to Meera Bhati, Class XI, Birla Girls High School, Bikaner. Winner, Shankar’s Art Competition. 5 Sept 1980.

She knew her mother’s name was Meera....the only information she had of her. She always wanted to know more about her: What was she like? How did she look? She had tried asking Leela dai once but was given a brush-off along with a warning not to dare utter that woman’s name who brought infamy to this house. Leela dai was part of the household as long as she remembered. She looked after her basic needs but nothing beyond that, whereas she was completely devoted to Dharam bhaiya and babuji and was completely attuned to their needs. In turn, babuji had given her the reins of the household, which she ruled with an iron hand. Thus, there was no way Pari could get any information from anyone. Try as she might, all that she had by way of her mother’s memory was a soft voice and a floral smell. Pari harboured this secret wish of meeting her once, if only to ask her why she left her. Was she a bad child? Did she trouble her too much? Maybe, one day....
**************************************

“Penny for your thoughts, little Pari.”
“Huh?” She started as her train of thoughts broke. Samar sat beside her, setting down a small food basket between them.
“I was just admiring this place. It’s so beautiful and so peaceful. I love it here.” Putting a lid on the painful part of her life, Pari turned to Samar, soft smile playing on her lips, her big eyes filled with gratitude and adoration directed straight at him, “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Samar reached over and cupped her face, “Your smile is my reward, Pari. Now eat. We have to get back in twenty minutes.”

They were sitting on a patch of grass on the top of a hill overlooking a waterfall. After a month of stealing conversations through the hole in the wall, Samar had decided it was time Pari tasted freedom and breathed in free and fresh mountain air. He had given her the idea of the four-leaf clovers when she mentioned the project to him. He had to spend three days in convincing her to take courage and do what he told her. The previous night he had sat with Karan and Kushal and planned Pari’s getaway. He had spent the morning collecting four-leaf clovers from the mountainside for Pari. Then, the three of them had painstakingly loosened four large stones in the wall beyond the vegetable garden, an area that was hidden from the mansion’s view because of the bamboo grass. The moment they saw Pari walking their way with a polybag, they had loosened the stones across. Karan had stepped inside the estate through the hole. He was assigned to fill the hole after Pari left with Samar and to wave the red scarf, periodically, for Miss Sinha’s benefit. Everything had gone like clockwork. Between Karan and Samar, they had sneaked Pari out.

Samar had asked Pari many times why she led a life of confinement. Why didn’t her father allow her to step out of the estate gates? Why didn’t they take her too when they went out of town? Why didn’t they let her go to a school? Why didn’t they let her meet anyone other than the mansion staff? For each query, Pari had only one answer, “My father says it’s for my own good. I have never questioned him.” He drew a blank wall every time he asked about her family, yet slowly and gradually she was unfurling herself to him.

During the initial days of their secret meetings across the wall, Samar had to conduct one-sided conversations. It never occurred to him to just let go. He felt restless the day he didn’t see her. Pari would either speak in monosyllables or express through her eyes or head movements, but her eager, smiling presence in front of the hole when he pulled the stone did something to his heart. Something beyond words. Something indescribable. She awoke deep-seated protective instincts in him. As if she called to a Samar who wanted to be better for her. In the beginning, this sensation, this strange sense of responsibility and ownership had made him timorous...made him feel out of control. And, if anything, he couldn’t afford to be out of control. His life had taught him that all-important lesson. Yet, one look from his little Pari was enough to melt him like a candle.

He had felt a strange sense of possessiveness rush through him when he had seen her the first time. As if it was his life’s mission to make this girl smile. He rescheduled his playtimes with Karan and Kushal, earning him a few catcalls and leg-pullings. But in the end, they gave Samar their full support. They were always good to him, so what if he was their housekeeper cum cook’s grandson. Ever since, he had come to stay with his grandmother, they had been the awesome-threesome.
“Tell me about yourself, Samar.”
Samar stopped a beat in his bite of the sandwich and then resumed. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and then said, “What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. Anything. Whatever you want to tell me.”
Samar smiled. She looked so adorable in her pink pants and blue top as she sat cross-legged across him, munching a samosa.
He reached out and thumbed away a blob of ketchup from the corner of her lips before answering, “I have told you that I appeared in my Class 11 exams this year, right?”

She bobbed her head, absorbing each word. A month had passed and she didn’t really know anything about him, except what class he was in and that Karan and Kushal were his best friends. He was always asking her about herself, and she always hesitated to ask him about his life...till today. Today, a wall had come down between them when Samar helped her go past the stone wall. Today she felt more confident of herself.

Samar took a sip from his coke and continued, “Pari, we have come here for six weeks only...for the summer vacations. We live in Chandigarh. The estate on the other side of your wall belongs to Mr DK Mehra, Karan and Kushal’s father. He is a very wealthy businessman. Because of his generous and philanthropic nature, he is a highly respected and much-awarded person of our country. He has properties and houses in many parts of the country as well as abroad. Every summer he sends Karan and Kushal to go and stay in one of his many houses, for their annual vacation. Mr Mehra bought this property last year, so this year they are here. And I am here because they are here.” He stopped and stared at her rapt face. She hadn’t blinked once. He knew she would after what he told her next. He would hate to see the disappointment on her face, but he couldn’t lie to her as to who he was, so he told her, “Pari, my nanima is housekeeper cum cook in Mr Mehra’s household. Even my mother worked for them, as a maid, before nanima got her married. Mr Mehra wishes nanima to be with Karan and Kushal wherever they go. They are very fond of her.”
He was studying her intently. Not a shadow had crossed her face, nor was there a change in her expression, so he prodded, “Pari!!”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you have to say anything to that?”
She frowned and then said, “Say what?”
“For God’s sake, Pari. I just told you that I am a servant’s son.”
“So?”
“So....doesn’t it matter to you?”

She thought for awhile, and in those few seconds, Samar had his heart in his throat. She shook her head and then looked at him with confusion, “I can’t think what you want me to say, Samar. All I know is that you are my friend and that ever since I met you I don’t feel alone any more...even when I am alone in the house, because now I have our memories to think about.” She beamed at him, and in that instant Samar lost his boy heart completely.

Samar knew he had his dark side, a side only his nani knew of. The dark past. He also knew that he would never expose his Pari to that side...ever...cause she was the sunshine he couldn’t afford to lose. She was all his tomorrows rolled into one tiny package of sweetness and innocence. Now, all he had to do was keep the package safe from all evil eyes till he was ready to claim it.
********************************

Next day it rained through the afternoon, so Miss Sinha held the classes indoors. After every few minutes, Pari would run to her first-floor bedroom to look out from the window at the Mehra estate grounds, just to see if the boys had come out. After her third so-called visit to the washroom, Miss Sinha put a halt to her escapades till she finished her Math problems. Pari was restless till she went to sleep. Her father and brother were due back after two days from their three-week US business trip. She had so little time with Samar who would be gone after a week. She didn’t want to lose any more days without seeing him.
“Pari.”
Pari smiled as the whisper travelled to her through the layers of dream-induced fog. She mumbled, “Samar, look...flying....fly with me....
“Oh, my little Pari! We shall fly together one day. But now, you need to wake up. Pari...PARI...PARI.”
Pari woke up with a jerk, “Wh...What?....SAMAR!!” she squealed when she saw him sitting on her bed, and then clamped a hand on her mouth, speaking from behind it, “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“Shshh! Quietly. I climbed the tree that’s out there, walked the parapet, and then came through the balcony.”
She jumped out of the bed and placed her fists on her hips, whispering as angrily as she could, “Are you crazy? What if you had fallen down?”
He grinned and tousled her already-tousled hair, “You look so cute. Like a little doll in pajamas.”
She shrugged his hand away, “Don’t change the topic. Why did you...”
“Cool down Pari.” He pulled her hand and made her sit on the bed beside him, “And stop fretting. I have loads of practice climbing trees and walking parapets. I had to see you.”
Pari squinted at the wall clock in the dim nightlight, “It’s 3 AM. You couldn’t wait till morning?”
He took her hands in his and nodded, “It’s because I won’t be here in the morning.”
She heard him speak the words but didn’t actually comprehend them. Did he actually say that he was leaving? That he won’t be here tomorrow, chatting with her, teasing her, laughing at her naivety through the hole in the wall. He saw the shock and disbelief in her eyes. Her thin shoulders sagged in dejection. He could barely hear her when she finally spoke, “You are leaving. But you said....”
He reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ears, “I know I said we are here for another week. But we got a call last night. Karan/Kushal’s grandfather suffered a heart attack. We have to leave early to catch the flight from Pune. That’s why I am here. I couldn’t go without seeing you. Also, I had to give you something.”
“What?” Pari whispered through clogged throat. She still couldn’t believe she won’t see him after a few hours. She’ll be alone again. She won’t see him...won’t hear his voice... won’t see him smile at her.
“This.” He took her palm and kept a cell phone on it.
She stared at it mutely.
Samar tilted her chin so that she had to look at him. “It’s a cell phone, Pari. I want you to keep it, so that we can talk to each other daily.”
“But I don’t know how to use it.”
“We have about two hours with us. I’ll teach you how to use it. You are a smart girl. You’ll learn fast. And yes, I’ll charge it from my end, so you don’t have to bother.”
“But Samar. What if someone sees it?”
“No one will know. You will keep it switched off and hidden through the day. You will switch it on and call me after you are sure everyone has retired for the night. Okay?”
She sniffed and nodded, “Okay.”
For the next hour or so, Samar taught her how to use the phone. He made her practice by making her call and talk with Karan. Once he was sure she was comfortable with the instrument, he sat with her on the bed and they talked till it was time to go.
Samar held her arms and bent to kiss her on the forehead, “Take care of yourself, little Pari. I don’t want anything happening to you. You are my reason to smile. And I like to smile. Hmm?”
She nodded and tightened her lips, lest the sob she had been holding for so long escaped. He wanted her to be brave and she wouldn’t fail him.
“Pari, I want to see you smile before I go.”
She took a deep breath and lifted her face and smiled.
“That’s my girl. Goodbye, little Pari. Be good. I’ll see you soon.”
“You won’t. You are going for a year.” This time the sob escaped so she pressed her fingers on her lips.
Samar released her fingers and smiled, although his eyes glistened with moisture, “Hey, one year will be up before you realize.”
Suddenly Pari threw her arms around him and sobbed quietly, “I’ll miss you.”
Samar held her tightly, ‘I’ll miss you too, my little Pari. Grow up soon, and I’ll take you from here.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.
************************************************
To be continued........................