Page 76 of A Shimla Affair
Seven Years Later …
Bombay, India
14 August 1947
‘Aye, get out of the way—get on the side, ayemochi! Let the sahibas get through, are you blind or what?’
‘Khushilalji, if you could not … ’
We walked through the crowds of people that had gathered outside old Poonawalla’s shop—who had promised the radio would be loud enough that the area would reverberate with its sounds. The best spots had long been taken, with people settled far along the streets with chai, samosa, achaar and vada. Loudspeakers were connected to the radio, and playedSaare Jahan se Achhauntil the speech began. The whole street was dressed up, marigold lining all shops and adholplaying at every second turn.
‘YehBombayhai, meri jaan! Nobody will get out of the way just because you ask; that’s Bombay for you … now get in through here!’
Old Poonawalla managed to pull us inside, and Noor, Khushilalji and I found spots for ourselves, and Afi decided to nestle in Khushilalji’s protective lap. I crossed my legs and sat down, as infected by the excitement that pervaded the air as anyone else. Poonawalla began working on building up the mood and got a dhol player to come and play in front of theradio. The men in the front got up and began dancing, along with some old women who Poonawalla blessed with some notes and flowers.
Somebody put their arm up in the air and yelled, ‘Bharat Mata Ki …’
‘Jai!’
‘Bharat Mata Ki …’
‘Jai!’
More slogans hailing freedom were chanted, and the mood became more and more celebratory with every passing minute. At some point, when two men began fighting, obviously drunk, Poonawalla threw them out, yelling about keeping decorum and being mindful of women and children.
The radio began to hiss static and, finally, the announcer came on, welcoming Pandit Nehru amidst cheers and screams.
My heart began to beat faster, and the brush of Noor’s sari drape against my skin took me back to that evening in the ballroom. How regal everything had looked! The floors had been squeaky clean and the room had smelt of rich wood, fresh air and the lingering perfume of all the women who had come that evening. How beautiful their dresses were, and how their heels tapped on the floor. And there had been food, so much food! Caviar, brandy peaches, timbale of chicken, turkey stuffed with chestnuts, spring lamb in mint sauce … redhead duck and guava jelly, croute aux bananes, plum pudding, petites bouchées, mince pies and so much more.
‘Amma, you have to listen carefully,’ Afi pulled at my sari and I nodded at him, telling him to listen properly as well.
We all clapped and screamed as Poonawalla asked for silence during the speech, and we followed obediently.
‘Long years ago, we made a tryst with destiny …’
From the side, Noor held my hand tightly, and I held hers tighter, blinking back the tears that welled up in my eyes.
‘ …and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance …’
The bumpy road of life has several paths charted out for us, and fate has already decided its boundaries and corners. When I was a little girl, I didn’t understand why my elders would say thatall is written in the stars, that human hands are mere actors in the affairs of destinies inscribed long ago. I didn’t understand why they fatalistically chose to accept this, forgetting in my ignorance that they knew so much more than me. Yet, when reality decided to knock on my doors, I too had no choice but to accept with open arms. Now, I tell my son that the joys and griefs of the world are not up to us to choose, and he too laughs at me, like I laughed at my elders.
All my life, I had wished to go away, not realizing that I had just wanted to come home. I had wished to live other lives in other lands, not realizing that I only wished to live my own life in its entirety. I had thought that the watchful eyes of my sisters and the walls of the hotel held me in a tight grip, without knowing that it would be the lightest I’d ever feel. I had thought that glories and fortunes awaited me in another corner of the world, forgetting that they were actually to be found in the loving servings of Afreen’s food, in the hidden adoration of Noor’s scolding and in the gentle ways of Ratan Babu. In the halls of the hotel that I knew better than the beats of my own heart.
‘Amma, what does it mean, freedom? They said many times, “freedom”, ’Afi asked me as the speech ended and the celebrations resumed. We began walking back, traversingthrough the crowds. But then, deciding it was too nice to not be out, we grabbed a corner of the street to sit and look around.
‘Hmm … ask Noor Amma.’
Noor rolled her eyes at me, trying to calm Afi as he demanded an answer.
‘It comes from the word free.’
‘What is free?’
‘Like when you buy four mangoes and the nice man gives you the fifth one free … you don’t have to pay for it.’
‘So free means you don’t have to pay for it?’
I snorted, ‘You have to pay alotto be free!
