Painted Ghosts, page 18
Sadie was already up and awake, jiggling a plastic toy with a bell for Krish. Madhu, sitting in a shaded area of the veranda, had on thick rimmed reading glasses as she studied a book.
‘I can come with you,’ Ria said.
‘Rest first,’ Daya insisted and followed up quickly with, ‘You know I love books. Your lovely gift, Ria, I opened it last night. We sometimes see the mountain hawk-eagle circling with its cry. And the black-lored tit nests in the shrubs at the back of the house. The book is wonderful. And Daddy-ji will look so good in that shirt. In a few days Madhu can take you places.’
Bijal came out, some material draped over his arm. ‘Into the mountains, Joshimath, Madhu can take you,’ he told Ria.
‘That’s miles away,’ Madhu looked up from her book.
‘You can see Nanda Devi, the highest mountain in India,’ Bijal continued.
‘You can’t get to Badrinath yet,’ Madhu looked back down at her book, ‘it’s still snowed in.’
‘When we got married,’ Bijal said, ‘I took Mummy-ji to the valley of flowers near Badrinath. It’s so beautiful and so sacred. Mummy-ji was young and beautiful and danced and laughed in the flowers by a mountain stream.’
‘Devout Hindus go there.’ Daya stood near her father. ‘There’s lots of temples. The gods sit right up on the tips of the mountains.’
‘You would think she went to college, too,’ Madhu looked over, smiling.
‘Madhu is the lucky one,’ Bijal watched his younger daughter. ‘We could see when she was little how clever she was.’
Ria noticed Daya look peeved by her father’s comment.
Padma brought out another small tin and handed it to Daya. ‘Daddy-ji had just started his shop when Daya was born, we could never afford enough for her, but she has been such a good daughter, haven’t you?’
Bijal smiled. ‘She could not pass her exams. Madhu could. Daya is so good in the shop.’
‘You know so much,’ Ria said to Daya, embarrassing her.
Madhu called up from her book again. ‘She can tell you all about how the mountains were made.’ And Ria could not tell if Madhu was scoffing at her sister or not.
‘She doesn’t want to hear all that,’ Daya laughed nervously.
‘But I do.’
‘We’ve got to go,’ Daya said.
Sadie jingled the bells and Krish giggled up at her.
‘I’d like to hear all that,’ Ria insisted.
Bijal took the tins from his daughter, said his goodbyes and headed up the track towards the shop. Padma went back inside.
‘You can tell her,’ Sadie said.
‘India,’ Daya drew breath, ‘the whole continent—’
‘See, she can’t wait,’ Madhu and Sadie laughed to each other.
‘All the land with all the weight of billions of people,—’ Daya went on, ‘is drifting northwards into the rest of Asia, pressing into China and Mongolia, centimetre by centimetre—’
‘She knows all about that stuff,’ Madhu nodded to Sadie.
‘And?’ Ria got her going again.
‘It’s been doing it for millions of years. And the constant pressure is pushing the Himalayas up, bit by bit, making the mountains, little by little. The youngest but highest range in the world—’
‘And we go up with it here,’ Ria laughed looking at the ground near her feet.
‘Yes.’
‘You need a college degree, Daya,’ Ria chuckled. ‘That it then?’ Ria urged her, realising Daya was sometimes shy, not pushy like her sister.
‘All those mountains draw the weather to them. If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have the monsoon. No rain. It would all be desert. Nobody here.’
‘She got that one from the Geography Channel,’ Madhu cut her off.
Daya looked hurt a moment, but recovered. ‘You love the game shows and the soaps.’
Madhu slammed her book down and began playing with Krish.
Daya smiled weakly, a look of hurt on her face a second, and lightly touching Ria’s arm guided her a little way along the path and stopped. ‘Look up there.’ Ria followed the wave of her hand towards the snow capped ridges. She could feel Madhu’s and Sadie’s eyes still on them, but they were more distant, their voices not out of range, but less effective.
‘In the early morning,’ Daya was serious, ‘the sun shines on that line of peaks. On a good morning with no cloud the sunlight just smacks on them like they are flat pyramids and the light reflected back is simply blinding. Just for twenty minutes at around the same time every morning. I just have to stare. It’s why they call them that — the glass mountains.’
3
Ria’s dream of a tiny temple among snow tipped mountains was broken the following morning by a shake. ‘Ria. Ria.’ Thinking there was an emergency she pushed herself out of bed and pulled a blanket round her pyjama tops, while Daya stood over her. Ria shivered. ‘Come on. Quickly.’ Sadie and Krish were already up playing on the roof.
A searchlight of sunlight had cast a path across the veranda as they crossed it.
‘Look. Up there.’ Daya motioned to the mountains. Brightened by early morning, they blazed back reflected sunlight. Slips of cloud added trimmings to their summits a moment with mild wisps of white, only to evaporate leaving a dazzling mirror. Mountainside surfaces seemed flat and glassy, like a huge prism that forged rainbow colours into a vast shaft of light that plunged down valleys, dispelling shadows, leaving a trail of stillness, tinging the landscape of foothills with a frosty brilliance. ‘The glass mountains,’ Daya said.
They stared.
‘Lord Shiva-ji,’ Daya began. ‘They say he sits in the mountain tops. Sends out his enlightenments to humanity from his third eye.’
Ria relived the girlhood excitement of seeing the model of the glass mountains with her father and brother, and imagined the light she saw now would extend its magic to the future, and that her brother could be found, that he was safe.
‘They say Lord Shiva-ji sits on Mount Kailash, deep in the Himalayas. A mountain shaped like a four sided pyramid and rivers flowing to all parts of the earth,’ Daya said. ‘I’ve never seen it, but they say no one has ever climbed it — or is even allowed to. Jains and Buddhists and Hindus gather to worship there. They say it’s the centre of the world.’
‘It sounds such a magic place. The mountains are so dominating, yet so silent.’ Ria took in what she was saying, still staring into the distance as the reflected sunlight faded slightly.
‘Your inner voices are thinking a lot for you,’ Daya watched her.
‘I’m not used to the quiet.’
‘You like the clang of the city? You’ve seen Delhi with all its noise. They say Mumbai is worse.’ Daya stood near her in the reflected light which, like the aurora of an eclipse, was fading. ‘Mystics say it’s good to be in the silence of nature, it’s the first step in meditation. If you can allow that chattering part of yourself that bubbles away to still itself, it helps to open up the third eye.’ Daya laid her index finger on Ria’s forehead between her eyes. ‘Symbolically it’s the eye to insight and knowledge. In some forms of meditation the idea is to release the Kundalini, or snake energy and insight from the base of the spine, right up to the head and into the third eye.’ She smiled. ‘We have the knowledge of the gods then.’
They were silent together enjoying the loss of reflected light and staring out at the colours of the trees and buildings in the valley until Ria slowly became aware of the noise of the world waking. Vehicles were moving on the distant road up near the town along with pedestrians. Occasionally she could hear the laughter of children on the way to school. And Krish’s chuckling filtered down to them along with Sadie’s baby talk.
Padma was already in the kitchen and Bijal had headed for work. Madhu came out with a phone in one hand, a cup of tea in another and a book under her arm.
‘There’s a lovely story about Lord Shiva-ji,’ Daya almost whispered. ‘He was meditating and his consort, or lover if you like, Parvati—who you are named after. Parvati rushed up behind him as a joke and threw her hands around his head and in front of his eyes. You know the game children play of “who is it?” Shiva didn’t play the game. Blinded by her hands — the whole world went into darkness — his third eye suddenly formed so he could see and control the world.’
‘Do you think I will see things with mine?’
‘Of course. I think you already have. Stay in India long enough and it will happen.’
‘Is she filling your head with that mystic stuff?’ Madhu looked over the steam from a cup of tea.
‘Keep your eyes open and your intuition and you will see things,’ Daya said to Ria.
Madhu put down her tea and fiddled with her phone. ‘That’s all a bit old fashioned really. Modern Indian girls don’t want any of that stuff anymore, they want make-up and nice clothes. Do you really think girls on cat-walks in Mumbai are thinking about Shiva’s third eye?’ Madhu addressed her sister. ‘You know what a cat-walk is, Daya?’
Daya looked down, then out to the valley where the greens were softening with the effect of the rising sun, and back to her sister. ‘There has to be more in life than gold earrings and bright saris—’
‘You need that if you’re going to get married—’ Madhu warmed her hands around her cup.
Daya answered her quietly. ‘No rich boy is going to come knocking, Madhu. Not to us. You think Daddy-ji can afford the kind of dowry those families want these days? Some of that class expect a new car, or at least a new TV.’
‘Nobody wants to be left on their own.’ Madhu looked up to her sister. ‘Do you want to get old and nobody wants you. Mummy and Daddy can’t look after us.’
‘I don’t want you to expect too much, that’s all.’
‘If we just accept everything that’s given us, then what? It just goes on and on. I marry some boy who works in a shop and live in his house and do all the jobs his mother tells me to.’
‘The world isn’t like the Bollywood movies, Madhu. That’s how it is for us.’
Madhu looked back at her phone. ‘I know boys in the village with cars.’
‘Their daddies’ cars.’
‘We can have that,’ Madhu stared at her, then flipped to Ria, ‘can’t we Ria?’
Ria looked over at Madhu but did not know what to say.
Daya scowled at Madhu and seemed suddenly tense. ‘You’re not seeing him? You’re not?’
‘I talk with anyone I like. I can’t help it if boys like me, I can’t keep them away.’
‘Not Prem,’ Daya’s voice lowered. ‘You mustn’t see him.’ Madhu stiffened and did a little shake of her head. ‘Not him. He’s not good for you.’
‘You’ll be left behind and I’ll be in one of those houses up on the hill,’ Madhu waved at some big buildings half hidden among trees up on the slopes on the other side of the main road near the village. ‘I’ll have a degree in business, a good job.’
‘He doesn’t love you,’ Daya was urgent. ‘I’ve heard about him. He plays with girls. He’s Christian, he won’t marry you.’
‘What will you be doing then? An old woman running a tailor’s shop?’
‘You can’t trust him.’
‘Or you’ll end up with the cousins in Delhi, you know what they’re like,’ Madhu said. ‘So strict, never let you do anything. They would force you into a marriage you didn’t want. So selfish and big headed they are.’
‘I’m trying to help you,’ Daya went on.
‘You never want my happiness,’ Madhu headed for the curtain to the kitchen, flipped it back with a wave and disappeared.
Sadie carried Krish down the outside stairs. ‘Feeding time,’ she whispered as she went in the house.
Daya looked at Ria resigned, ‘I don’t want her to get hurt. It’s still hard for women here, even the educated ones. You can end up with the wrong sort—’
Ria laughed nervously, ‘You keep clear of those kind of guys—’
‘Not marry them and stay with them for the rest of your life,’ Daya carried on her concern. Traffic noise sounded from the main road behind her and Ria could hear a woman singing in a house a hundred metres away. ‘You can’t have a boyfriend here, in the villages and small towns.’ She drew breath. ‘If a girl got pregnant and wasn’t married she might as well be dead. You cannot imagine the shame it brings on the girl’s family. And if she’s poor—’
‘Thank god it’s not like that back home,’ Ria said, her thoughts drifting. ‘I keep asking myself questions. Why did my dad take Hari and not me? Why did they desert me? The glass mountains you showed me — my dad gave me a model of them. There must be something in it.’
‘Sadie can help you?’
Ria shook her head. ‘She’s not the same without Ijay.’
‘It was so sudden, poor thing,’ Daya rubbed her fingers.
‘Nobody knows for sure,’ Ria whispered. ‘I mean, how it happened. I mean, Sadie doesn’t know. You mustn’t tell. But you’re just like a sister already. It’s just that, well, some of my mates at the restaurant knew him. He got into a lot of scams.’
Ria read the shock in Daya’s expression. ‘You don’t think it was an accident?’ Daya said and then, ‘We shouldn’t talk badly of those who have passed away.’
‘He was involved in stuff, growing big loads of weed and selling it. That’s what they say. And dealing other stuff too. I shouldn’t be telling you all this. I don’t think Sadie knows any of it. It was just talk at the restaurant when he died. He was clever at making money and it was getting hot for him.’
‘Poor girl. No wonder Sadie — I’ll keep trying with her,’ Daya said. ‘And Ijay wanted the land there. Not for—’
‘Growing weed? That’s how he lived, Daya. We’ll never really know —’ Ria shivered under the blanket she had thrown over her shoulders when she came out. Although the sun was rising, the cold air of the mountains had not yet been burned away.
‘Every family has secrets,’ Daya said. ‘And you never really know with people. When Ijay came here he was so respectful to Mummy and Daddy and so helpful to the family. We all loved him. I would like to remember that side of him. It makes it more important for Madhu and me to find the right man. We have to know as much about them as we can. But you’re cold — you must get dressed.’
Ria guessed from Daya’s expression that she wanted to say more and was curious. ‘You have found somebody to marry?’
‘There is someone in Patrinath. Mummy-ji is the only one who knows. I’ve met him a couple of times. Madesh.’
Ria was excited, ‘And?’ Daya looked away. ‘What’s he like? Do you think you could marry him?’
‘There’s something in what Madhu says. And Madesh’s family have a business. What other choices will I get?’ Daya kept her gaze on the valley. ‘Maybe Madhu is right. The only other way out for a woman is education. Here I am working so she can go. I hope she does find her dream boy and live out Bollywood dreams.’
‘I think she already has.’
‘It can never be anything with Prem.’ Daya turned back to her. ‘I do know him, Ria. He plays with girls like they’re his toys.’
Ria’s concentration was interrupted by the distant sound of a drum beating for a moment, followed by silence.
4
‘Have you ever worn a Punjabi Suit — shalwar kameez?’ Daya came to Ria’s room the next day. She had come back from the shop to pick up her father’s lunch and took the opportunity to have a quick chat. ‘I’m sure the right colour — it would look good on you—’
Ria again noticed the distant thud of a lone drum beat. ‘Once, when I was little, thirteen or something,’ Ria said, ‘I was invited to an Indian wedding. Was I scared, and didn’t really want to go. I mean if the girls at school saw me I would die.’ Daya sat with her on the edge of the bed. A broad blade of sunlight spread in the room from the open door. The place was piled with baby clothes, Sadie’s dirty washing and a small heap of baby toys. Sadie had taken Krish on the sun roof. ‘But you know when my friend’s mum put it on me I felt the Indianness suddenly flow through my body. I can’t explain, I hadn’t known it before you see, I was just English at school, and now like, it shook through me.’
‘Through all the chakras,’ Daya said.
‘In front of the mirror I was Indian, and I had never seen that about myself since my dad gave me my part of the glass mountains. At school I had to survive, just like everyone else, so all that was hidden for ages.’
‘We must go to town and get you a suit — or Daddy-ji will make you one.’
Ria heard the sound of another soft drum beat followed by silence and then the squawk of a distant bird of prey.
‘I wore black trousers to school,’ Ria went on. ‘We could wear black skirts, but I never did. Always wanted to keep myself covered —’
Daya laughed, ‘Like a good Indian girl.’
‘Anyway I liked those black togs — was glad to get back in them after the Punjabi Suit,’ Ria was serious, but Daya laughed. ‘I dressed myself up every morning in front of the mirror, in secret. Knotted my tie. Then one day I remembered something: an old trilby some passing bloke of my mum’s had left behind — a must. A bit of make up. Had to tie and pin my hair back first, then on with the hat, tilted this way and that. Posed for ages.’ They laughed. ‘Can you believe it? There I was hat and all. A bit of heavy makeup. I was quite flat chested in those days so I could pass as a boy. Posed for ages. Needed a walking cane to add a final touch.’ She laughed. ‘I could have been in the movies. I danced and pranced. But it was a laugh and I felt good. Then Sadie came in and laughed at me. Then I hated it. God I was late that day and got a mouthful. Always hated it then. I’d forgotten all that until now.’
‘You never had the closeness to your dad — or even your brother — that I had,’ Daya said.
‘You’ve always been close to your dad?’
‘I couldn’t ask for anyone better. He is so good in so many ways — loving, caring, and full of jokes and fun. It’s just — he’s a bit stubborn in business and slow to move, but Madhu and me keep on to him about that. He is special, not like some of the fathers I know in the village.’ Daya smiled. ‘I was on the roof the other day when Mummy and Daddy were alone downstairs. I think they must have thought I was out, but I watched them and listened. He had brought her a necklace of yellow flowers and he put them around her neck. She was a bit reluctant at first. “No, silly, I’m too old,” she said. “You’re never too old for me,” he laughed in reply. And she said, “You’re a silly old man.” “Silly, but not old.” He laughed with her, but she was tense and went on about him getting the hotel order and how important it was. He fobbed it off with a wave of his hand. “They know me, I just have to show my face” And then,’ Daya leaned close to her in a whisper. ‘Do you know what he said? “Do you remember when we swam in that stream? We had only been married a while, we were young and — we found that little waterfall with a pool underneath it. Cold as ice, but we swam.” Mummy-ji tried to stop him, saying someone might hear. And I could hear, hidden up on the roof. And then he says,’ she cupped her lips in her hand a moment. ‘“Naked. Off with your sari. We should do it again.” She tried to shake him off by taking off the necklace of flowers and hanging it by the door, but he only followed her and held her around the waist. I had never seen this before with my parents, Ria. She told him to stop it, but he went on about the waterfall and how naked they were and how free they felt then without a care in the world. She said: “We are not young anymore.” And he said, yes, I remember now: “You are as young as you want to be in your heart. Love has no walls.” Isn’t that a wonderful thing to say, Ria? But you know my mother replied straight away. “Not for men.”’ Daya leaned back a moment in thought. ‘How right she was. But Daddy-ji kept fooling around with her saying things like: “And a man asks himself why she can’t be his little cherry again?” He’s such a romantic. Who can ask for anything more. But she wasn’t having any of it at that moment: “There’s things to be done, food to be cooked,”’ Daya smiled. ‘And that was it.’
