The Scene Behind a Veil Read online



  THE SCENE BEHIND A VEIL

  By

  Sami Ahmed

  Table of Contents

  Little Hearts

  Krishna

  “Nooo…”

  Krishna’s parents, sleeping in the adjacent room, were startled by the shriek and, at once, rushed to their son’s room. Krishna was sitting on his bed in darkness, weeping. “What happened, my child?” his mother asked, drawing him closer to her bosom.

  Krishna’s father switched on the light. “Was it a nightmare, Krishna?” he asked.

  Krishna nodded his head in reply. Their soothing words and the bright light from the tube made him comfortable and calm. He stopped weeping.

  “Come on! Nightmares are just bad dreams. No need to worry,” his mother said. “Shall I sleep with you here, Krishna?”

  “No mummy, I will sleep alone. I am a brave boy,” he said.

  His father laughed and stroked his head. “That’s my Krishna!”

  His mother pulled a bed sheet over him. After a while, they both kissed him on the cheek and departed, leaving the lights switch on and instructing him to call them back, lest he needed anything.

  When they left, Krishna shut his eyes tight, trying to sleep; but sleep wouldn’t come to him so easily. He wondered why he was dreaming that same horrible dream day in and day out. At least if it were a different one, he could have told his friends in school about it as an adventurous story. It was too much today; he woke up from his sleep crying; something he had never done before. He frightened his parents with his shameful act.

  ‘Damn with that terrible-looking monster coming into my dreams!’ Krishna muttered inwardly. ‘I will not let him spoil my sleep; ditto mummy and papa’s sleep.’ With that strong determination, Krishna shut his eyes more tightly and he did not know when sleep took him over.

  The most enjoyable event in the eight-year-old Krishna’s everyday life was his return walk from his school to his house in the late afternoon. He would cover the distance in around 20 minutes, reflecting on the day’s events at school and anticipating a happy playtime ahead with all his neighbourhood kids in the evening. And the most exciting part during the walk was his butterscotch cone ice-cream, his favourite one. He daily bought it from the ice-cream vendor in front of their school and ate it while walking down to their apartment. He always took it as a challenge to devour the ice-cream through the 20-minute walk to his home without letting the cone melt down. He would finish it only before knocking on their door.

  Lately, Krishna began to dislike the last leg of his afternoon walk. When he entered his street, almost everyday, he would find a boy his age staring at him, his eyes fixed on his ice-cream. The boy looked at him in such a way that Krishna began to fear that one day he was going to beat him and snatch away his ice-cream.

  Krishna guessed from the dirty torn clothes the boy always wore that he was from the slum area just besides their building. Would he ever take a bath? Krishna wondered many a time looking at the boy’s unclean face and soiled hands.

  ‘Why did he look at me like that?’ Krishna tried to get an answer to this question. He got many answers in his head. The boy was poor, did not have money to buy an ice-cream, so he was planning to snatch it away from him.

  Later Krishna made his second theory. ‘If father’s words were to be true, this boy must be a thief,’ thought Krishna. Stealing was in the blood of all the slum-dwellers and the poor, his father always said, and warned him to be careful with those people. ‘I must be cautious with that boy. He is planning to steal my ice-cream by making me afraid with his fierce and nasty looks.’

  Like that, Krishna would make a new theory every time. That day, to his surprise, he made a theory from a different point of view from his usual one. When Krishna spotted the boy from a distance, he saw a face filled with sorrow and gloom instead of his usual roughness and carelessness. When he came a little closer, he saw a streak of tears running down the left cheek of the boy.

  ‘What happened to him,’ Krishna wondered. ‘Maybe his mother should have scolded him for some mischief.’

  Even while crying, the boy did not stop looking at Krishna and the more-than-half-eaten ice-cream in his hand.

  ‘What does he want from me?’ Krishna boldly looked into the boy’s eyes, as the boy seemed vulnerable today. On other days, he even hardly looked at him. ‘This boy may not be bad as I assumed,’ thought Krishna. ‘He, too, might be fond of butterscotch ice-cream like me.’

  Suddenly, Krishna changed the direction of his path, walked up to the boy and thrust forward his right hand holding up the remaining ice-cream to his face. ‘Take this.’

  The boy was surprised and embarrassed by this sudden offer. But it was only for a second. His face lit up, taking the ice-cream. And he eagerly began licking at it.

  Wondering how the boy’s eyes shone while eating his half-eaten ice-cream, Krishna walked towards his building. The monster that always captured all his possessions in the nightmares did not come in his dream that night.

  Nandu

  “How delicious the ice-cream is!” thought Nandu, taking an eager lick at the remaining ice-cream. ‘This ice-cream boy is not as bad as I thought.” He watched the boy disappear into a posh apartment building.

  Nandu’s father always told him that the rich living in those big and comfortable apartments never cared about the poor. But his words turned out to be wrong — today. “This boy cared about me; he gave me an ice-cream,” Nandu muttered inwardly. After finishing the ice-cream, he wiped his hands clean with the hem of his shirt and ran towards the slum.

  As all children his age, Nandu, too, liked ice-cream. But he rarely got a chance to eat it. It would take a week or two for him to save Rs 5 from the money his mother or father gave him occasionally to buy chocolates. Sometimes he would not buy anything and save it until he had Rs 5, enough to buy an ice-cream.

  When Nandu first saw the boy from the opposite building walking happily down the street one afternoon, with a colourful and delicious-looking ice-cream in his hand, he felt pangs of jealousy. “His ice cream must be tastier than the one I eat usually,” Nandu’s mouth watered. He imagined how deliciously and smoothly it would melt on his tongue.

  From that time onwards, it had become Nandu’s routine to observe the ice-cream boy. It was his best time. He would forget the world, looking at the ice-cream in the boy’s hand and imagining he himself was eating it. If, for some reason, he did not see the boy on any particular day he would feel upset as if he had not had lunch.

  The thought that today he had finally eaten that delicious ice-cream made Nandu walk on cloud nine. When he entered their shabby hut and saw his little sister weeping, he came back into the real world.

  *****

  The following afternoon, Nandu was waiting for the boy to appear as usual. When he spotted the boy, he was surprised to see one spare ice-cream in his other hand.

  Krishna walked straight up to Nandu and offered him the spare ice-cream. Nandu hesitated. “It’s okay. Take it. I had some extra money today, so I bought it for you,” Krishna said.

  Nandu grabbed the ice-cream at once as if the boy might change his mind any time, and began to run without saying a word.

  Krishna was puzzled. “Why are you running?” he called out.

  Nandu stopped for a moment, turned his head over his shoulder and said: “I will give this to my little sister. She has never tasted an ice-cream in her life.”

  Then he disappeared into an alley in the slum.

  A Tale of Love

  “I may have to go to the US for three months,” she said.

  He was surprised. “What! You are going to the US?” His first thought was, how could she go away from him so far for three long mo
nths. His second thought was, why not? Everybody longed for such an opportunity. Even he was trying hard to go onsite so that he could earn more money and gain better career opportunities. Now his sweetheart had got the opportunity. Shouldn’t he encourage her to go and utilize this chance?

  “Congratulations, Neha! You should accept this offer. Three months isn’t actually such a long time.”

  “Are you sure, Neeraj?”

  He took her hand in his and said, “Yes.”

  In two weeks, Neha was gone. Immediately, a big void opened in Neeraj’s life. No evening meetings with her, no phone chats lasting for hours and no morning missed calls from her to wake him up. He missed her so terribly. To top it all, Neeraj realized he was going to miss her birthday too, which was falling towards the end of her second month in the US.

  “You remember how much we enjoyed ourselves on your last birthday?” he said to her during one of their weekly calls.

  “Yes, it was so much fun,” she said wistfully. “I am so sorry we could not be together this year. But don’t worry, Neeraj, we will together have all the fun and enjoyment on your birthday.”

  “That is six months away, my dear,” he said uncompromisingly. “It has been only fifteen days that you have been away from me; but this is the longest time that we have been separate in our three-year relationship.” The last time was when Neha had gone to her grandma for ten days.

  “And we have to be apart for another two-and-a-half months,” she said sadly.

  As usual, the two lovebirds ended their call, giving courage to each other. Neeraj always tried not to talk too much about their separation so as not to affect her work; but still he would end up complaining about her going away. Ultimately, it was she who would give him more courage.

  ***

  Weekends were more terrible for Neeraj. Saturday and Sunday were the days they had made the most of being together. They would explore the whole city until they were tired and worn out. He would drop her at her place in the evening.

  If he was feeling so lonely without her, Neeraj wondered, what about his poor Neha. She was away from everybody – her family, her relatives and her friends. How lonely must she be feeling?

  Just two days before another weekend, Neeraj got a call from an unknown number. “Can I speak to Neha?” asked a female voice.

  “May I know who is calling?”

  “I am Malati, Neha’s friend.”

  He recognised her immediately. “Hey! Malati is Neha’s childhood friend. You are the same Malati! Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh! I heard a lot about you. Neha has told me many stories about you. How you both used to share all your joys, sorrows and everything!” Neeraj said excitedly.

  There was no response from Malati. She seemed to be in confusion as to who he was. But Neeraj continued excitedly. “In fact, Neha tried many times to contact you, but couldn’t get your number. She will jump and scream in excitement if she knows you called.”

  “Where is she now?” Malati asked.

  “Oh! I am sorry. I am rumbling like a stupid guy. Actually, Neha is in the US now and will be back in two months.”

  “Ohhh...” Disappointment in her voice. “You are her brother?”

  “Oh, no! I am her boyfriend.”

  “I am sorry. But this number…”

  “It was actually hers one year before. She gave it to me and got herself a new number.”

  “OK! I got this number after a lot of effort, but I couldn’t talk to her even now.”

  “I can understand your disappointment. I have Neha’s ISD number. If you want I will give it to you, else I will ask her to call you on your mobile once she is back.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I can’t afford ISD calls. Ask Neha to call me back when she returns.” The line was cut. But, it was only the next morning, a brilliant idea flashed in Neeraj’s mind. He mulled over it for some time and then dialled Malati’s number, with a new determination.

  “You are working in the same school in which Neha and you studied till the tenth standard. Am I right?” Neeraj asked her immediately when he heard her voice on the other end.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I am coming to meet you tomorrow morning and will spend the whole day with you.”

  “Why are you coming?” Malati was puzzled.

  “There are many reasons. First, I want to meet the person with whom Neha bonded so well for the initial ten years of her life. Second, I want to see the school where my little Neha gained her education and knowledge. Third, I want to see the town where Neha grew into a teenage girl,” Neeraj said with excitement. “Are these reasons enough to come and meet you?”

  For a moment, no response from Malati. “Do you love her so much? And you want to come so far just because Neha spent ten years in this town?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, you are welcome. But remember you may get disappointed here or you may have some bitter experiences.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  ***

  Early on Saturday morning, Neeraj left for his sweetheart’s childhood town. He had called Neha the previous night, but had not told her anything about his planned journey. He wanted to surprise her when she knew all this.

  The four-hour journey to that small town was pleasant. When he knocked on Malati’s door, he had an unexplainable feeling that he was meeting Neha’s childhood best friend. As the door opened, he found a young woman in front of him, with a pleasing smile.

  “Neeraj?” she asked.

  “Yes!”

  “I am Malati,” she said and welcomed him into her house. She introduced him to her parents as Neha’s distant relative. Malati had already informed Neeraj that she would introduce him in this way; otherwise her parents, who were not well acquainted with the culture of boy friend and girl friend, would not welcome him.

  After finishing breakfast, Malati and Neeraj left the house. “I just can’t believe even now that you have come so far to see Neha’s elementary school. Far from being a tourist spot, this place is full of dirt and dust,” Malati said smiling.

  “I haven’t come to see this place. I want to see the childhood of little Neha. By coming here, I may know many things which she hasn’t told me and hope it will help me understand her better.”

  “How sweet of you! You know I always appreciate Neha in her choices? When I took arts in college, she took science. When I wanted to become a teacher, she wanted to become an IT engineer. Now see, she is far ahead of me in her career. And she must not be wrong in selecting you as her partner.”

  Neeraj laughed. “Yeah, Neha is a good decision maker. But you are happy with your career, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, I am. For it is my choice. How many people get a chance to teach in a place where they once learned the ABCD’s?”

  They reached the school. It was beaming with life – cries, roars and the chattering of students coming from everywhere. “This is the school where I teach and where once Neha and I used to study,” Malati said, turning dramatically around on her heels, her hands stretched out.

  “It’s a beautiful school,” Neeraj said, looking around keenly.

  Malati continued in excitement. “This is the same old building your little Neha studied, danced and played. These are the same corridors where she once roamed, chatting and merrymaking with her friends.”

  Neeraj was in a trance; he was seeing his little Neha everywhere. He saw her in the girls briskly walking down the corridors. He saw her in the girls playing in the ground. He saw her in the girls sitting bored on the benches in the classrooms. She was everywhere. Every corner in the building, every tree in the campus, every bench in the classroom knew her for so many years. And he knew her only for three years!

  ‘How I want to be a kid again!’ Neeraj wondered. ‘Why didn’t we meet as kids in this school? We might have gained ten years as lovers.’

  Malati showed him each classroom where they used to sit and their exact benches in each c
lassroom. “You remember all this even now?” he asked.

  “Yes. Don’t you remember?”

  Neeraj tried to remember all his classrooms and his place in each of them. To his wonder, his childhood memory was sharp. “Of course, I do,” he replied. Then he asked, “Malati, do you know Nirmala madam?”

  “Of course, she is head mistress of the school and once she was our class teacher while we were kids. Do you want to meet her?”

  “Yes! Neha has always told me a lot about her; she was her favourite teacher and one of her role models. Neha says this woman changed the course of her life by cultivating a great habit of reading in her.”

  “Yes, Neeraj! She has made a lot of gem students in her career. Let’s go and meet her,” Malati said. They entered the head mistress’ cabin. Nirmala madam was old and amiable, radiating charm in her smile. When Malati introduced Neeraj as Neha’s friend, her face glowed at once with pleasure. “Oh! You are Neha’s friend! Good…She is such a lovely girl! You know what? Even now, after all these years, she has remained my favourite student.”

  “And you are her favourite teacher,” Neeraj said. “Neha admires you a lot. She says you never teach lessons from textbooks. Instead, you buy lots of academic and non-academic books with your own money, distribute them to the children, make them read those books and grasp the essence.”