The Great Downpour

Chapter II

Chapter II

Rati lay staring at the ceiling in her room as she twiddled her hands around the little brown envelope that she held in both her hands. A tear coursed down her cheek as she lifted her hands and looked at the front of the envelope in the lights that shone through the single window.

“Ms. Rati Lancaster,
Room no. 213 / Old students Hostel,
St. Aloysius College of Arts, Science and Commerce,
Jabalpur, M.P., India.”

A little further down was the sender’s name with an address.

Carmen Lancaster
1578, Rue de la Cacchione,
Paris, FR.

Just below the address were scribbled the words: “Reply soon”.

Rati went into a thoughtful mode as she remembered her mother with a wistful smile. Carmen Lancaster had come to India as an exchange student some 22 years ago. Vijay Dubey was a biologist who took classes for her group, and he was also the guide for her group on a zoological expedition to the Kazirangha Wildlife Reserve. During the eight-day expedition, the duo had fallen for each other. At the end of it, Vijay proposed and she accepted. The marriage was solemnized according to Indian rites, and Carmen changed her name to Shaila Dubey. They both emigrated to her country, where, after a year of marital bliss, Rati was born. Pretty soon, however, the marriage soured - chiefly because of the vast cultural differences - and when Vijay decided to leave France for ever, Carmen reverted to her maiden name and gave Rati her family name.

Over the years, Carmen went out with many new men, and even experimented with a couple of marriages, both of which failed, and finally, about three years ago, she stopped chasing men, and began an antiques business, in which Rati also joined. A small shop in one of the small lanes of Paris gave them enough chutzpah to venture out into imports and exports, and networking with Indian antique dealers brought India (and its memories filled with Vijay) back into Carmen’s life. When Rati first asked her for permission to go to India to trace her father, Carmen refused; when the former became persistent, Carmen agreed, and reluctantly let her go.

Two years had passed, and yet Rati had not been successful in locating him, although she knew he was somewhere in Central India. Perusing the net, she had tried to look for him on governmental as well as private corporate staff sites, but so far success had eluded her. In desperation, as well as to while her time away in this intriguing, interesting, but strange country, Rati had enrolled for an Arts appreciation course at the St. Aloysius College.

It was here that she met Sandesh, a physically fit-as-a-fiddle athletic third-year arts student whom she befriended immediately. Secretly, she liked him a lot, but her mother’s unpleasant experience weighed heavily on her mind, and therefore she kept Sandesh at arm’s distance and did not allow him to get physically too close for comfort.

Her thoughts turned to Sandesh. He once told me he had three brothers. What a huge family! She remembered her one visit to his residence a few months ago.

This is my mother. Please do namaste to her. How cute had it all been! All the brothers had stood quietly in deference to a foreigner amidst them (so what if she was half Indian, she had a complexion and eyes that clearly were Caucasian) – they had all greeted her with folded hands, and had stood by to attend to her every need! When she had requested for a glass of water, why, all of them had made as if to rush to the kitchen to be the first to fetch the glass for her!

She would always marvel at the amazing way Indians behaved to please guests. She broached the subject once with another friend of hers, and was surprised to learn that for Indians, any guest was potentially an agent of God sent to conduct a "goodness" test. So that is why they all ran to get me that glass of water.

Sandesh had coaxed her to stay back for a sit-down meal, and she had savoured one of the best sweets she had ever had. It is called Rabri, his mother had said. She saw Sandesh eating it like there was no tomorrow! Afterwards, he had taken her to his room. His room had been filled with sports paraphernalia. Badminton rackets hung on the one free wall, while posters of Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid adorned the other two. She knew about his love for cricket, India’s one and only high-profile game, and also knew that he was a good player at it. In fact, he was one of the members of St. Aloysius College’s cricket team.

She got up off the bed and went to look at herself in the mirror.

I do look beautiful; I must admit Sandesh is a connoisseur at choosing the right girl!

She was about to open the envelope when the phone rang.

“Hello! Is that you, Rati?”

It was Nanda Tripathi. Nanda was a third-year Science student and a biology assistant. Everyone, but everyone, loved her bubbly personality - her shyness and her simple looks only adding that extra something to her likeability.

“Hi Nands! What’s up, hmm?”

“I called to ask you if you will be going to the college picnic …”

“Of course, I will! What about you?”

“Yes, indeed, I too will be going. So … what are you doing right now?”

“Oh, nothing … why?”

“I was wondering if I could invite you over to my place for dinner today.”

Nanda sounded quite excited. It seemed that she wanted Rati’s company quite badly.

Rati mulled the thought over in her mind and finally accepted. After all, she had no specific program for the evening!

After changing into evening clothes, she carefully cut open the envelope. Her mother’s handwriting looked back at her. The letter was over four pages long. She began to read it. Carmen had described all the events of the past fifteen days. Sometimes, she can be so boring! Carmen also reminded her that it was now over two years since she had left the house and asked her when she planned to give up her quest and return home. Probably never, thought Rati to herself. She wanted to live an independent life and her mother’s lifestyle choked her freedom completely. It wasn't as if she did not want to be a part of her mother’s antique business: after all, it paid handsomely! It was just a question of emotional emancipation. That’s all. Rati smiled inwardly as she mouthed the two e-words again.

“Emotional Emancipation! Ha-ha!” she laughed at no one in particular.

Finishing the letter, she put it aside and prepared to go to Nanda’s place.

She decided to take a cab. Her friend lived just a few blocks away, but Rati was not in the mood to walk, what with the fact that it was past sundown and she would be a misfit ambling down the main bazaar road in the dark.

Nanda’s mother opened the door within a second of her pressing the door-bell. Nanda came up to greet her personally and dragged her into her own room.

“I am so nervous about it, I can’t tell you!”

“About what?” asked an obviously confused Rati.

“He … he is also coming to the picnic, isn’t he?”

“Who?” Rati was aware that Nanda was in love with Sundeep, or Sunny for short, but she didn’t want to let on that she knew, as Nanda had never shared the secret with her earlier.

“Sunny …” blushed Nanda and added, “I mean, Sundeep, you know, the third-year Arts fella …”

“Oh yes, I know him. Isn’t he the College Cultural Secretary or something?”

Rati kept a straight face as she said this. She knew that her feigning ignorance had been successful because Nanda continued to talk as if Rati had never interrupted.

“He … I mean, I … I …I don’t know whether I should tell him or …”

She left the sentence hanging, allowing the import of her words to “sink in”. Rati decided to play along with her.

“Are you … I mean … is it true? Do you love him?” She said with suitable intrigue and surprise pasted on her countenance.

Nanda blushed beet-red as she nodded yes.

Rati stood up and stretched out both her hands to take Nanda’s hands in hers. She turned around with Nanda once, twice, thrice.

“I am so happy for you, Nands!”

“I … should I tell him?”

“Of course, you should, darling!” Rati continued to twirl around the room with Nanda, and eventually they both fell back on to the bed, laughing.

Just then, Nanda’s mother called them for dinner. It was a simple, home-cooked dinner with pulao, dal, mixed vegetable curry and chapatis. Later, Nanda served her kheer, a rice and milk-based sweet that Rati liked very much.

“And what about you and Sandy? Have you told him yet?” Nanda asked her over a delicious scoop of the kheer.

“No, I don’t really know …” said Rati. She was more or less a private person, and like most Westerners, she kept her own counsel. Nanda knew better than to probe further. She let the matter be. I shall tell her at a more opportune time, thought Rati to herself. She did not want to discuss her misgivings about Indian men so soon with anyone and kept quiet as she finished the serving in her bowl.

“I must be going,” she declared. It was getting to be past nine o’clock. Nanda agreed that it was time for her to leave.

“I can ask my dad to leave you to the hostel in his car,” Nanda began.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary, really …” said Rati, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the idea of troubling Nanda’s father at such a late hour.

“It’s no hassle,” said Nanda. She gestured to Rati to stay put while she went out to speak with her father. Presently, she returned with him in tow.

“He has agreed to take you, dear,” said Nanda.

Rati smiled thanks and hugging Nanda at the door, finally took leave of the Tripathis and went out with Mr. Tripathi to return to the hostel.