Page 22 of Six Days in Bombay

Matron had lowered her voice to a whisper. I couldn’t hear what she said.

“Not sure I agree. She’s not British. Kipling was right. Savages, every one of them.”

I heard Dr. Holbrook’s heavy footsteps walking away. Matron remained where she was, looking at the floor, deep in thought. Then she turned in my direction and saw me. Her face lost allcolor. For the briefest of moments, her eyes were naked with fear. Then she seemed to compose herself, her expression grim. “Are you spying, Nurse?”

“I—I’m on my way to see to the new baby and mother, ma’am.” My pulse was racing. I might have just overheard the reason why Mira hadn’t improved, why her condition was worse.

“Then you’d better be on your way. The baby is underweight. You need to manage that.”

She was talking calmly, as if the conversation I’d overheard had never taken place. Had I imagined it? No, they were definitely talking about Mira! Why hadn’t I spoken up for her? Instead, I’d been a coward, complicit in my silence. She deserved better. Should I tell Dr. Mishra what I’d overheard? The line between right and wrong and where my responsibility lay was making my head pound.

***

It had been a long day. Dr. Stoddard’s wheelchair, the request Dr. Mishra made of me, and then the conversation between Dr. Holbrook and Matron—all of it had drained me. I hadn’t been able to find Dr. Mishra before my shift ended to tell him what I’d overheard. Maybe I should confide in Indira.

At four in the morning, I found Mohan replacing the wheels on a gurney, which he’d turned upside down. He worked longer hours than I did. I often wondered if he slept in the maintenance room.

Instead of his usual shy but cheerful greeting, he barely looked up when I approached him.

“Have you seen Indira, Mohan?”

He lifted his head and gave me a blank stare. I understood. He was smarting from my response to his marriage proposal. I had to say something or that rejection would become a festering sore. I came close enough to him to see the dark hair in his ears. Ignoring me, he picked up his screwdriver and removed a fastener from the wheel. As usual, the room was crammed withold chairs and tables and broken equipment. Even so, it never felt stuffy until today, given Mohan’s mood.

“Mohan, I am not ready to marry anyone. I don’t know if I will ever marry. I’m not convinced it’s a shift I’d want to sign up for.” I was hoping my little joke would help lighten the mood, and I thought I noticed a softening around his eyes. “You’re very kind to offer me a life of companionship and security. I want you to know that.” I offered him a humble smile. “I’m not sure you’re aware what you’d be getting in me. I have strong opinions. I like to do things my way—except when Matron catches me.”

That brought a thin smile to his lips. He looked at me then, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“You deserve better than me. Someone who cooks dinner for you when you come home. And massages your feet after a long day’s work. And makes you tea whenever you want it. Knows what you need even before you do. You know that’s not me. It never will be. The right girl is waiting for you. You’ll find her. She may even come help you here, fixing gurneys and painting tables.”

“Accha, accha!Stop!” He was laughing. “Indira was here, but she left. Her husband came to get her.” Mohan’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Maderchod. The way he handled her. Told her he was going to walk her home from now on.”

My ears started ringing. “What did he say exactly?”

Mohan looked away, embarrassed. “‘I don’t want thatgori randianywhere near you.’”

So now I was thewhite whore. It was laughable and cruel at the same time. If Indira’s husband only knew I’d never even been with a man.

“Did she seem scared, Mohan?”

He thought about it. “She was startled more than anything. I don’t think he’s ever come here before. I’ve certainly never seen him. She started to say he needn’t worry, that she’d told you she couldn’t walk home with you anymore, but he slapped her.Then he shook her.” Mohan cast his eyes at the gurney, as if he didn’t want to meet my eye. “It was hard to see, Sona. After that, she just followed him out the door. Like she was in a trance.”

I gritted my teeth. I wanted to scream,How did men like Balbir get away with it?Instead, I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Mohan.” I walked over to my bike.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

I turned around. The expression on my face must have told him I didn’t understand.

“To Indira’s?”

He nodded. In that moment, if Mohan had asked me to marry him, I might have said yes. How noble it was of him to want to protect me from the likes of Balbir.

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

***

No sooner had I cycled two blocks from the hospital than I saw the young Indian students under the streetlamp. They were passing around a pack of Scissors cigarettes. The smoke competed with the strong medicinal scent of the golden shower tree, the flowers of which Mum mixed with rice water as a balm for my sore throat.

“But Gandhi-ji says violence is not the way—”

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