Page 27 of A Shimla Affair
There was a moment of stillness, and I’ll never forget the way she looked at me, as if I had punctured her short-livedmoment of happiness, of ignorance. She knew before I said a single word that we had been hiding something. She had heard our whispered debates, observed our fidgety demeanour; how could we hide ourselves from someone who knew us better than ourselves?
‘I knew there was something going on. What is it—’
The door to the room burst open and immediately, we knew something was wrong—it was Afreen, only half ready, her hair falling about wildly, her sari undone.
‘What happened?’ Noor immediately got up.
‘The family … Ratan Babu … caught in the storm,’ Afreen began, and I detected a sob stuck in her throat, her voice shaking. ‘They—they … riots have erupted in the city. Between the Hindus and Muslims … we don’t know what happened exactly, but there have been many fights in the last few days and now some say a girl has been taken away, abducted … a Hindu girl by some Muslim men—her family have no idea of her whereabouts. Emotions are running very high in the city … Ratan Babu left for town to get his family, wouldn’t stay here a second longer.’
It was as if our world had suddenly come crashing down. I looked at Afreen as fear gripped my heart and curled around my toes. Fear of the outside world over which I had no control, a world which had the power to destroy our loved ones.
What menacing omen shone upon us, that the happiest day in the life of my dearest sister must be tainted with the life of her family in danger? I shuddered at the thought that our actions might have brought it about, the train robbery in Palka which created tensions between the Hindus and the Muslims. Perhaps this is what happens when you are reckless with the lives of others, your own becomes dispensable as well.
‘What can we do?’ I asked, my one hand already around Afreen’s, the other on the handle of the door, ready to set out.
‘Neither of you are allowed to step out,’ Noor said, and just as the two of us attempted to protest at the same time, she held up her hand firmly. ‘I mean it. There will be mobs out there on the street. They won’t care to ask you if you are Hindu, Muslim or Parsi. Outside is no place for a woman right now. I must try and contact the magistrate.’
She swiftly left the room, leaving the two of us in a silence that threatened to swallow our hearts whole. Half-dressed in our celebratory attire, half-paralysed in anguish and helplessness.
We went to the salon and waited there, reluctantly sipping cups of tea, looking up at the slightest sound, waiting for any news. The scene was right out of a tragedy—Afreen in her bridal white sari, stuck here with her sisters, unable to do anything while the men went outside in a storm that refused to subside, mobs taking over the streets of our beautiful town.
‘I will change,’ Afreen announced, getting up, and I nodded sympathetically. But as she left, I saw something else on Afreen’s face. She didn’t look distraught or shocked, she seemed determined. A tremor passed through me—what if she attempted to do something stupid?
I headed to our room and my suspicions were confirmed. Her wedding sari lay sprawled across the floor. Cursing under my breath, I ran, just managing to catch her slipping out the door.
‘Afreen!’ I yelled and, already out in the garden, she stopped to look back.
‘Go back! I’ll return soon!’ she yelled.
‘Are you mad? There’s a storm out there, a riot in the city—’
‘Just go back, Nalini!’
‘Afreen—’
‘I’ll be back before you know it, I just can’t bear to think of them out there on their own—don’t worry about me!’
‘How can I not?!’
But she was already gone, sprinting out the garden, heading down the hill. I stared at her retreating figure, feet frozen to the ground, feeling torn. What hope did she, a lone woman, have in a city crawling with crazed mobs?
Noor turned up behind me and asked suspiciously, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Afreen’s gone after Ratan Babu!’
She must have caught the desperation in my voice, for she immediately stepped out and I followed her without thinking, my heart melting in relief. Like always, by taking charge, Noor had settled my heart. She had always been the anchor we could trust, and no matter how far we pushed her, she never deserted us. The thought brought me guilt and pride at the same time, and I willed myself to be more like her.
We called out Afreen’s name a few times but, in the blackness of the night, we had lost sight of her. We too began towards the town, afraid, but the thought of Afreen alone out there terrified us even more and we took after her with resolve.
It wasn’t raining any more but it was extremely wet, with puddles and swamps everywhere, and water still dripping from the trees. The rain had brought out all kinds of insects and I could already feel the first stings on my ankles, dressed as I was in my sari and impractical shoes. We heard a rustle in the distance and decided to cross the forest before calling out for Afreen, not wanting to attract any attention.
Dark thoughts preoccupied me as we went forth. Noor cursed Afreen under her breath. I had read about the riots in other cities, the conflicts between the Hindus and Muslims. I thought of my sister out there, determined but helpless. Pictures from our childhood crossed my mind. Afreen taking my hand and walking staunchly to her friends, telling them I just had to be included in their circle. Afreen and I playing together in the house, pretending we were warrior queens. My resolve hardenedand I thrust all other thoughts out of my head and quickened my pace.
We peered at the Mall after coming down the hill. There was not a soul around, and the view scared me. I had never seen the streets so eerily deserted, so quiet I could hear my heartbeat. The shutters were down on all the shops, and the street, which was usually dotted with rickshaws and throngs of people, was conspicuously empty.
We walked quietly along the edge of the street, towards the Lower Bazaar where we assumed Afreen would have gone to look for Ratan. If his family had already arrived in Shimla, their entry would have been through the Lower Bazaar. Standing quiet as mice by the stairs descending into the Bazaar, we gripped each other’s hands. The streets were a dizzying labyrinth closing in around us, and I was glad for Noor’s presence besides me. She, not quite shaking as much as I, extended a protective arm in front of me.
I heard them much before I saw them—footsteps hitting the ground in unison, chants hailing a God. It was the sound of fear cloaked in reprisal, the sound of death cloaked in mania. Noor grabbed my hand, and we immediately crouched in an alley, the stench of the sewer almost making us retch.
