Neela: Victory Song

Bengal, India – 1939
Author Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
Illustrator Troy Howell
Originally Published © 2002 Pleasant Company
ISBN 1584855215
 

Wedding Preparations

Neela is woken with a start at the sound of her mother’s voice. She was in a deep dream—a beautiful dream about a lovely woman with hair like waves and a crown of diamonds on her head, and sad eyes. For a moment, Neela blinks with sleepy confusion at her mother because the dream was so real. Mother is wearing a pretty new yellow sari, but she looks a bit harried herself.

Neela is instructed to get up and get dressed. Usha needs to wash up and change it to her yellow sari, too. The guests will be arriving soon.

Excitement floods through Neela as it comes back to her. Of course! Today is Usha’s wedding day! The preparations will begin in just a little while with the gaye halud, a ritual where women of the village pour turmeric water over Usha’s head for good luck. Turmeric water is a terrible yellow mess, so women must be dressed in yellow, too. A large fire pit was constructed for the wedding cooking, and the women who come over will be staying for lunch. It’s quite a spread with basmati rice, five kinds of vegetable curries, and elaborate kurma made from fish caught just this morning, and two kinds of dessert. This was a comparatively simple meal, because the real feast will be tonight after the wedding. More than one hundred guests are to be expected.

Neela’s father had wanted to keep things small. It’s a difficult time, not a time for celebration. Another war has just begun in Europe. Father says there are troubles in India. So many people have taken up the struggle for India’s independence. They’re risking their lives every day for the sake of their country. But Neela’s mother is agitated. It’s the first wedding in their family. Father insists that many farmers, especially cotton growers, have been suffering since the British started importing machine-spun thread from Manchester. Because Father grows rice, their family is still fetching a steady price, but many people don’t have enough to eat. The countryside is overrun by bands of robbers.

Neela has a feeling that her father is right, but Mother won’t give in. People would say nasty things if the oldest daughter of the most successful farmer in all of Shona Gram was married off like a beggar girl. Mother says that Usha cannot get married with less than one hundred people, otherwise she’ll be terribly disappointed.

Neela glances at the wooden cot where her older sister sleeps. Usually, Usha would be burrowed underneath the sheets, with a pillow covering her face. But today, she’s already awake. She’s staring at the wooden beams of the ceiling, chewing nervously on her lip. For the first time, Neela will finally have a room to herself after her sister’s marriage. She’d been excited about that for a while, but now, she feels a guilty pang for her sister. Neela comforts her sister, saying that everything will be fine.

Usha insists that she doesn’t know her new husband at all. What if he doesn’t like her after they’re married. What if none of his family likes her. Usha sounds tearful and younger than her fifteen years. Her husband-to-be, Gopal, is the son of an affluent farmer who lives three villages away. The marriage was arranged last month, after Gopal and his family came to see Usha. Gopal is good-looking, and has a pleasant smile, and from time to time, Neela catches him glancing with shy interest at her sister. But Neela understands Usha’s fears. That’s how it’s always been in traditional Indian families. Young men and women aren’t allowed to meet alone and get to know each other, not even after the wedding has been arranged. And, the thought of choosing one’s own husband is out of the question.

Neela’s sighs. Why can’t a girl choose her own husband? What is wrong with that? Neela says that she is sure that Gopal likes Usha. His whole family does, or else they wouldn’t have chosen Usha. Usha is pretty and sweet-natured, and they will all get along great. Usha is petite and fair-skinned, with long black hair and thick black eyelashes. She’s quiet and obedient, as their mother is fond of pointing out.

Neela, on the other hand, would come in with a scraped knee from climbing a tree, or with her dress muddy from having given a bath to Budhi, her favorite cow. Mother would exclaim that she is as thin as a stick of bamboo from running around so much, and getting darker from being out in the sun. No one will want to marry her when the time comes. She ought to be more like Usha, sitting calmly at home with a piece of embroidery. Neela’s father would smile. The pandit says that Neela reads and writes better than any other girl her age. Better than Usha even. But Mother insists that that will do Neela no good, except to fill her head with too many strange ideas.

Ma’s voice calling for the girls breaks into Neela’s thoughts. It’s time for them to get ready, and they better hurry. Usha just ought to think about the fine jewelry she’ll be wearing that night. Usha’s face lights up. Neela knows that Usha loves dressing in fancy clothes and that she loves her wedding sari. It’s a beautiful red Benarasi silk embroidered with gold thread. There’s a fine red petticoat of cotton to wear underneath, and an elbow-length brocade blouse with frilled sleeves.

Neela pulls on a shift, baggy drawers, and a clean frock that reaches past her knees. She’s normally considered too young to wear a sari. She doesn’t know how she would manage the six yards of material a sari is made of. But tonight, at the wedding, she will wear a sari for the first time. Hers was brought in from the same bazaar as Usha’s wedding sari, and it was a beautiful deep orange silk embroidered with a silver paisley design.

Neela walks to the porch, where her family’s maid put out a bowl full of freshly cut neem sticks that the family uses to brush their teeth. She chews on the slightly bitter stick as she goes to the pump. With the bucket of water, she washes her face and is about to visit the outhouse when she hears a loud angry mooing coming from the cow barn. It’s Budhi! Time for her to be milked. But normally, she waits patiently. Something must have upset her.

Neela hurries to the barn and sees Great-aunt Mangala, who is visiting for the wedding. She tells Neela that Haru, the servant boy, was sent to milk her. Neela hears Budhi moving louder than before, but she sees it’s no use trying to explain to Great-aunt that Budhi doesn’t like anyone else except Neela touching her. Neela slips away and goes off to the barn anyway, with Great-aunt’s shouts echoing behind her.

The barn is a long, low structure built of mud and brick. All of the cows are still tethered in their stalls except for Budhi. She broke her rope, and is knocking over her milk pail and moving and shaking her horns. Haru is backed up against the wall and on the verge of tears. When the cow turns to Neela’s voice, Neela catches hold of the rope and signals to the boy to go, which he does without hesitation.

After a little bit of calming, the cow allows Neela to tether her again. She’s still too upset for her milk to flow properly though, so Neela sings a song about cows at harvest time and rubs her back. Budhi nuzzles Neela, pleased.

By the time Neela gets back to the house with a full pail of milk, the village women have started arriving. They’re setting out good luck items, which Neela forgot to do. Glaring, her mother tells her that she’ll be dealt with later, and demands she goes to change. Neela feels bad. It’s an important day, and her mother is anxious already. But on the other hand, she couldn’t have left Budhi like that. Life is complicated, with duties that sometimes collide against each other.

Neela tries to make up for her behavior by being extra helpful. She fetches and carries things, and greets all guests politely. At lunch, she sets up the banana leaves that everyone will eat from. She helps mother serve the guests first, even though she’s starving. And after the meal, Neela pours water for the women to wash their hands.

A woman compliments Neela’s mother on what a good daughter she has. Neela is surprised by this. All of her mother’s friends have known them for years. There isn’t much coming and going in their quiet little village. Once they get married, they stay in their husband’s homes with their in-laws even though husbands may take jobs in nearby towns. Perhaps this woman is a relative of one of the other women. She is comfortably plump, and looks like a pleasant person. She wears a yellow cotton sari, but hers has a wide red border decorated with gold thread. When she speaks, the diamond in her nose winks merrily.

As the day turns to a warm afternoon, Neela lays on her cot impatiently. Mother decreed that both girls were to rest until the evening so they look their best for the wedding. Usha didn’t object, and she tossed and turned nervously for a while before finally falling asleep. But Neela, who’s used to spending her afternoons on more useful activities, is wide awake and dead bored. There’s not even anything to read in the room.

Great-aunt Mangala said, “Resting does not mean straining your eyes reading all that small print.” And she had confiscated the book Neela was reading, a much-handled copy of the Kathamala, a book of animal fables that the pandit had loaned her the last time he came over for a lesson. This annoys Neela. Why does Great-aunt feel like she has the right to tell her what to do? What’s worse is that Mother would probably side with Great-aunt if Neela were to complain. It’s what Neela thinks of as “The Conspiracy of the Adults.”

What Neela wanted to do that day was to go see the baoul. The baoul is a wandering minstrel who turns up in the village from time to time. Neela’s always happy to see him. Baouls are regarded as holy men. They wear saffron colored robes and give up family ties and all other earthly goods. Their coming is supposed to bring a family good luck. Her baoul is always traveling to far off places like Calcutta and Bombay. He leans on a staff when he walks, but he has a fine, clear voice and a large repertoire of songs. Every time he comes, he teaches Neela a song or two. It’s the only musical instruction she’s ever received.

Last night, the baoul showed up at their house. Dinner had already been served, but a place had quickly been set for him with the other menfolk visiting from the other villages and towns. When Neela’s father asked him about the news, Neela listened avidly. He talked about a big war against Germany. He said the Germans are dropping bombs from planes, blowing up cities. The British want India to help them fight Germany like they did last time, but the Indian Congress leaders don’t want to. Why should Indian men die for Britain in some distant battlefield?

The men debated about why they should or should not be loyal to the British. The British are the rulers of India. They govern the country and have given them things like courts, railroads, schools, and jobs. But others bring up that the British have been looting India for hundreds of years. There were the indigo plantations and they forced farmers to grow indigo to sell for a lot of money in Europe for nothing. Before the British, India was ruled by Muslim kings. They did whatever they wanted as well. But the British have also jailed people for demonstrating against them. Specifically, a man named Netaji Subhash Bose is rumored to be back in India, urging people to defy the British. But there are so many rumors nowadays, nobody knows who to believe.

The baoul stated that Netaji is back. His presence has given new strength to the freedom fighters. But at that moment, although Neela wanted to stay to listen, her mother called her away, so she didn’t get a chance to hear what the baoul continued to say. Neela was brought back into the kitchen, but from behind the door, she listened to the baoul as his fingers danced on the ektara’s string. She usually loves to watch, but at least she could hear.

The baoul sang a song that was banned by the British many years ago. It’s called “Vande Mataram,” which means “Hail, motherland.” His voice was deep and serious in some places, and high and joyful in others. He described India, her green fields, her cool breezes on a hot day, and the sweet voices of her people. She’s an ideal to be loved, and a goddess to be admired. Neela creased her forehead and tried to understand the unfamiliar Bengali words from an older time. The baoul asked the motherland for blessing, for the courage to fight to the death. His voice dipped, raw and sorrowful, as he sang.

The song made Neela wonder why they are a country of so many people, yet so hopeless against a few thousand British? Looking at the women around her, Neela even noticed tears on several cheeks.

Later, lying in bed, Neela tries to recall the tune and remember the rest of the words, but she can’t. She hums a little bit and then gives up. She wishes she could go and see the baoul. She’s sure he’s sitting on the porch of a ruined, old Krishna temple on the other side of the pond, humming a tune or thinking quietly. Tomorrow, she will ask him to teach the song to her.

 

Bandits!

Cousin Rani laughs and scolds Neela as she puts together Neela’s sari. Neela is so excited that she can hardly stand in one place. She wants to see the lights, how they decorated the wedding area with flowers, and how Usha looks in her wedding clothes. Cousin Rani says that she needs to hold still while she finishes putting her sari on. Otherwise, she won’t see anything. Neela forces herself to stand quietly. Rani arranges the end of the sari so it falls in neat pleats from Neela’s shoulder down her back, using safety pins to secure it to Neela’s blouse. The pins are so that it won’t fall off of her if she bends over.

Neela is handed a mirror, and she stares wide-eyed into it. She’s not used to seeing her own reflection. The only mirror the family possesses is hung from a wall hook in her parents’ bedroom. Although Usha goes in there several times a day to use it, Neela never bothers to. In her reflection, Neela sees sparkling black eyes lined with kajal, hair neatly braided down her back, and a small round orange bindi in the middle of her forehead. And her sari is gorgeous. Neela looks like she could almost be fifteen years old.

However, because the sari requires half an hour being pinched and prodded by Cousin Rani, Neela will be happy to go back to her frocks and skirts tomorrow. Neela thanks her cousin for her help, and Rani says that Neela’s mother has a surprise for her.

As Neela goes to her mother, her feet keep getting caught in the pleats of her sari. Neela wonders how women ever managed to wear these things and still do all of their housework. With a glance, Neela realizes that nobody is around her, and lifts her sari up to her knees. Then, she runs to her mother’s room. Once outside the door, she stops and smooths down the pleats before her mother sees her.

Neela’s mother is wearing a lovely white silk sari with a red and gold border. Mother compliments Neela, commenting that she’s almost already as tall as she is. Neela smiles. It’s not too often that mother approves of her. She vows to be on her best behavior the rest of the evening. Mother holds out a pair of tiny golden hoops and says that these will be her earrings for the day. And she hands her a choker with a teardrop pendant and three sets of gold bangles. Then, mother hands over one more small package wrapped in velvet. Neela opens it and her breath draws in a delighted surprise. It’s a long, gold chain. Mother says that Neela is becoming a young woman. Mother and Father think this is a good occasion to give her some new jewelry. She’ll have to be careful with it.

Neela puts on the chain and looks in the mirror. It glitters around her neck as though it holds magic. It’s beautiful, and she knows it must have cost her parents a lot of money. She promises to be careful with it.

Neela sits among the other women guests in the clearing by the side of the house, where the wedding is taking place. Lanterns are strung around the area, and torches are mounted on poles. The thick grove of mango trees beyond is dark as ink. Neela looks out thoughtfully on the mysterious darkness as she listens to the drawn out notes of the shehnai. The notes are soft and sorrowful, yet full of joy at the same time. They celebrate the fact that Usha is starting a new life, but they also mourn the fact that Usha’s girlhood is ending.

Neela wonders what her sister is thinking. Usha is sitting next to her husband in front of the wedding fire, repeating the words from the priest. Usha looks beautiful in her red silk sari and her gold wedding jewelry. She has a nose ring, a necklace, matching earrings, an armband, and bracelets. Their father had been saving these for years because, as everyone knows, a daughter’s wedding is an expensive affair.

Neela can see that Usha is very tired. Her fingers tremble as she offers handfuls of puffed rice into the fire. Fortunately, the wedding is almost over. The jasmine and chrysanthemum garlands have already been exchanged, and the dowry, a bag of gold coins, has been handed by her father to Usha’s father-in-law.

Thinking about the dowry upsets Neela. Her parents had had to do without a lot of things to get all the money together. And they still came up short. At the end they had to sell two of their cows. It’s unfair that a girl’s parents have to pay so much. After all, Usha’s in-laws are getting a new and valuable family member, for free, for the rest of her life. Mother always says that she doesn’t know where Neela gets such ideas. Dowries for girls—that’s the way it’s always been.

Neela’s thoughts are interrupted by an uproar in the audience. People are standing up, pointing, and shouting something she can’t make out. Women start screaming and running towards the house. Neela sees a group of men, their faces blackened with soot and oil to prevent recognition. They’re holding weapons—scythes, axes, and the leader is carrying a gun. Where did they come from?

The leader starts to speak. His voice is deep, full of authority. He announces that they don’t intend to hurt anyone as long as they do as they say. They’re swadeshis, freedom fighters, not ordinary robbers. They’ve taken a vow not to rest until their motherland is liberated from the curse of Britain. But they need money. They need to train and feed their men. They need medical supplies. And they need weapons. So, they are asking that every man in the wedding party give what is in his pockets, and that every woman give a piece of jewelry. In exchange, they will not hurt anybody, and the wedding party can hold their head high.

There’s a murmuring in the crowd. Neela notices an annoyed look on the wealthy landowner, Ram Prasad Chowdhury’s, face. It’s clear he’s not eager to give the freedom fighters anything. Then a voice speaks up from a corner, saying that it isn’t too much to ask. A handful of money should not be more important than a life of dignity. It is the baoul. He stands and holds up a fist. He holds out everything he has and says the freedom fighters can have it all.

The freedom fighters pass through the crowd, holding out large pieces of cloth. The baoul drops his coins into one of them. They make a clinking as they fall. Others begin to reach into their pockets, too. Coins and notes begin to fill up the cloths. Usha’s father-in-law hesitates, then takes out a gold piece from the dowry bag and drops it in a cloth near him. Father gives his gold ring. Neela can’t see what the other men do, but women are taking off jewelry. Mostly small items, but at least they’re giving. Neela sees Usha slip off one of her bracelets and lay it on the cloth.

Then, someone is standing in front of Neela, holding out a cloth. Neela can see through the man’s turban, that he’s not a man, but a boy. He must only be about sixteen or so. He must have left his home and taken up the scary business of fighting the British.

Neela is about to take off her earrings, but then she changes her mind. She unclassed her new gold chain and puts it carefully on the cloth. It sparkles among the other items, clearly the most valuable piece. She feels a moment of regret, but she’s happy, too. She knows she’ll get into a lot of trouble when Mother finds out, but surely Father will understand.

A grin splits open the boy’s face as he thanks her. His smile’s white against his dark face, and there’s a slight gap between the front teeth. Neela likes the openness of his smile and its honesty. She wants to ask him more questions, but there’s no time.

As the freedom fighters gather to leave, Neela’s father tells her to go to the cook to pack a bundle of sweets for the freedom fighters. Neela picks up the hem of her sari and runs to the cook. He heard what father said and is ready with an earthenware pot to hand to Neela. She hurries back and hands the pot over to the boy. He smiles and thanks her again, and says they’ll think of her when they eat tonight.

The leader of the freedom fighters thanks everybody. He tells them that they can help by not buying British goods. They should wear only handloom cotton woven in India. Ladies should throw away the glass bangles. They should hurt the British in their pocketbooks. Then, he turns to Neela’s father. He says that he is a good man, and that he should join them. The motherland needs men like him.

Father responds that he doesn’t believe in violence, and that killing people isn’t right, even for independence. The leader answers that he doesn’t like it either. All these men and boys trust him, and he hates putting their lives in danger. But he knows the British aren’t going to hand over their country with a handshake.

Everyone at the wedding feast is talking excitedly about the bandits. There are many opinions. The landowner says that they’re all rascals. Who knows what they’ll do with the money they’ve collected. Father believes that they’re not liars, and the baoul says that it’s a good thing that India has a few sons who care more about her than about their pocketbooks.

The landowner says that the baoul is nothing but trouble. He should leave the village tomorrow morning, and the watchmen will be instructed to give him a beating if they see him around. The baoul gives a nod, and says that he finished what he came to do. It’s time that he leaves anyway. He picks up his ektara and staff and walks away.

Neela pushes past the wedding guests to follow him out, but the end of her sari keeps getting caught on things. As she calls out to him, the baoul turns and says that all she needs to do is remember the words “Vande Mataram.” He says he’ll teach her the rest of the song next time. Meanwhile, she should think of Mother India and what she can do for her. And then, he melts into the darkness of the grove.

 

Good-Byes

The day after the wedding is not a good one for Neela. The night before, after the feast, is when the trouble really begins. Things start off going just fine. People begin to leave for home, commenting on how fine the wedding celebration was. They say that they will remember the meal for a long time. Someone even mentions that Neela looks pretty in her new sari. She’s growing up to be a smart girl, and she wasn’t even afraid of the bandit’s gun and knives. However, another person comments that it’s hard to imagine her sitting quietly at her own wedding. Whoever gets her as a daughter-in-law will have trouble controlling her.

Neela feels her face grow hot with anger. Why does everyone feel the need to control girls? Why are women expected to sit quietly and silently while men make all the important decisions? Why can’t a girl be a freedom fighter? Neela pictures herself as a freedom fighter, complete with a blackened face and a turban. She imagines herself evading British soldiers easily, with a twist of her sword.

But Mother breaks into her fantasy. Mother says that it’s time for Neela to go to bed right away. She must be up early in the morning for the good-bye ceremony. Neela folds her sari and takes off her jewelry. She wraps the earrings, choker, and bangles in the velvet cloth that used to hold the gold chain. She hands Mother the sari and the small velvet bundle, hoping that Mother will just lock them away. But instead, she stops to check the contents.

Mother mentions that Neela forgot the chain. Neela doesn’t move to go get it. With a dry throat, Neela explains that she gave it to the freedom fighters. She expects mother to shout at her, maybe even slap her, but instead she only stares at her. The horrified look of disbelief on her face is worse than any slap.

With a broken voice, she asks Neela how she could do that. It was supposed to be part of her dowry. They’ll never be able to afford another chain like that. Why couldn’t she think of her family? She should be thinking of them, too. It took Father a long time to save for that chain. Neela bends her head, feeling guilty about the pain and worry she’s caused. But what she did wasn’t wrong—she knows that in her bones. It’s another one of those complicated times when duties clash.

The next day, Neela is grateful for the busy morning. She sets out breakfast for the bride and groom and loads all their gifts into bullock carts to carry them to Usha’s new home. But through it all, she’s aware of her mother’s displeasure. Mother only speaks to her once to instruct her in what she should do.

One whole bullock cart is filled with the gifts that Neela’s parents got for Gopal. This, too, is part of the dowry. Gopal’s father had given Neela’s father a detailed list of items, including the names of stores from which each item should be bought. The gifts include traditional silk and cotton clothing, English shirts and pants, a gold pocket watch, and household items like bedsheets, quilts, and pillowcases. There’s also steel pots and pans, and shiny brass plates. Neela’s eyes catch a pretty pair of shoes made with black leather and crisp thin shoelaces. Neela hadn’t seen many people wear shoes in the village. Most people in the village go barefoot. She knows Father does have a pair of worn sandals he wears when he goes to Calcutta, but they’re very old. Neela picks up a black shoe, and she sees on the inner edge of the shoe a little gold embossed sign that reads Made in Great Britain.

Neela puts the shoe down quickly. Before yesterday, she wouldn’t have given the matter another thought. But now, it seems like buying foreign-made shoes is a type of betrayal to her country.

Everyone weeps when Usha leaves. Mother, the neighboring women who came to see her off, and Usha herself, who was so distraught she couldn’t eat any breakfast. Even Neela, who rarely cries, feels her eyes filling with tears. Would Usha’s mother-in-law scold Usha if she doesn’t wake up early? Will she criticize Usha’s cooking and sewing? Will she make Usha do the hardest chores? Neela has heard lots of horror stories about mothers-in-law. She says a quick prayer for her sister as she waves.

Neela doesn’t think it’s fair that women always have to make the changes when they get married. Maybe Neela just won’t get married at all.

It hasn’t even been a minute that Usha is gone when Neela’s father calls for her. With trembling footsteps, Neela follows her parents into their room.

Father questions why Neela gave away the gold chain. She was told that it was valuable. Neela’s lips feel dry, and her heart hammers against her ribs. A frown draws Father’s eyebrows together as he stares at her, making him look very stern. Mother sits beside him on the bed, looking even sterner.

Neela wants to throw herself into Father’s arms, the way she did when she was a girl, but she knows it won’t work this time. She apologizes that she upset them both. She didn’t realize the gold chain was for her dowry. She thought it was her own. So she didn’t think it was wrong to give something so valuable to freedom fighters. Neela continues to say that they’re risking their lives to make India independent. Didn’t Father say that he admired them, too?

Father is silent for a long moment. He looks preoccupied, as though he’s thinking of something other than Neela’s problem. But after a nudge from his wife, he comes back to the present with a start.

Father says he does have punishment for Neela. He’s not going to beat her, though, and he’s not going to make her stop her lessons with the pandit. He’s going to give Neela a chance to earn back the money. They’re maid told them she doesn’t want to work anymore—she’s getting too old. Instead, Neela will take over her job in the barn. She’ll feed and bathe the cows, clean the stalls, cut the hay for them, and milk them. Mother will put aside the money they save every month until they have enough to buy another gold chain.

Neela earnestly feels very lucky. Her father is a fair and intelligent man. Other fathers would have caned their children at the very least. But instead, hers had given her the chance to do something positive to make up for what she’s done, and help the household at the same time.

Father tells her that it will take at least a couple of years to save up the money. Neela says she doesn’t mind, and she’ll take good care of the cows. She won’t do anything else to upset her parents.

When Neela and Father enter the barn, Father isn’t interested in looking around or instructing Neela. He sits on a bale of hay and motions to Neela to join him. He doesn’t talk, but stares into a dark corner where the plows are stored. His face looks worried.

Neela takes his hand and hers. His hands are large and calloused, but gentle at the same time. One of them has large V-shaped scar on its back. Father tells Neela that he’s made a decision. He has decided to go to Calcutta. He’ll leave tomorrow after lunch. Neela stutters, and asks why he needs to go to Calcutta again. He was just there to do wedding shopping.

Father shakes his head, and says it’s not for himself or family matters. He wants to see what the leaders are doing. There’s a group called the Congress Party. They’ve been asking the British to hand over the governing of the country to them for a long time. Mahatma Gandhi has called for a general boycott next week, of all British-made things as well as courts, offices, and railways. There’s going to be a big peaceful march because Gandhi doesn’t believe in violence. Father wants to find out more about it, and maybe even take part in it.

Father goes on to say that the baoul warned him of danger. Even though Indians are acting peacefully, the British army and police are not. They’ve killed and wounded a lot of people and have thrown others into prison. But he can’t forget what the freedom fighter said. India needs him. He says he will never forgive himself if he doesn’t go.

Father reassures Neela that he plans to march to support the boycott, but to come back right after. After all, he still must prepare the fields for next season’s planting.

Neela asks if her father has told her mother yet. He admits that he hasn’t. He told her he’s going to Calcutta to buy some high-quality seed for the crops. But he’s telling Neela because he feels like he can trust Neela to help Mother and to keep his secret.

Neela nods emphatically, saying she won’t let him down. He says one more thing. If for some reason he’s not able to come back…

Neela interrupts him so he doesn’t finish his sentence. But he speaks over her anyway. Then it is Neela’s job to tell Mother the truth, so she knows that Father died for their country.

Neela bites her lip to keep in the tears as she watches Father walk down the dirt path leading away from their house. He’s wearing a clean but worn dhoti and kurta, with a simple bag slung over his shoulder. He looks so defenseless. Neela always looked up to her father as the strong one, but now she notices how thin his hair is getting and how it’s sprinkled with gray. How will he ever be able to stand up against the British empire?

Mother tries to comfort Neela by saying he’ll only be gone a few days. And with all of her new chores, the time will pass quickly. Neela nods wordlessly. What her father had told her in the barn hangs inside her chest, solid as stone. She was so proud to be his confidante, but now she wishes that he had told Mother, too. Then they could worry together. She watches her father’s figure, getting smaller with the distance, disappear around the bend in the road. Neela feels lonelier than she ever has in her whole life.

 

The Secret Guest

Neela is emptying a heaped basket of hay into Budhi’s feeding tray. She’s mixed some fresh grass and leaves into it with some grain and roots from her teacher, Panditji. Her teacher also serves as the village apothecary and vet, and has been very helpful to Neela and Mother during Father’s absence.

Budhi moves loudly and pushes against Neela, trying to get at the food. Neela thinks how simple Budhi’s life is. As long as Budhi is given something to eat, tethered to the mango trees, and taken him to the pond for her bath, she’s happy. Neela wishes she could be like Budhi. She whispers to Budhi that she’s so worried about Father. He’s been gone a week, and they’ve heard nothing. Mother thinks that Neela is silly to worry. She thinks he’s been delayed because of all the rail lines that were destroyed by freedom fighters. But Neela has a bad feeling about it.

As Neela turns to leave, she hears a hollow cough behind her. She spins around to see Budhi chewing contentedly. The coughing seems to come from behind the stacks of hay. Could it be a wild animal like a mongoose or a fox? But how could that be? She always latches the door after she milks the cows in the evening. She hears the sound again, followed by wheezing. Her heart beats fast, and she picks up a piece of bamboo and tiptoes to the stacks. She pokes her stick in the space, ready to run, but instead of an animal, she hears a male voice.

Neela demands that the thief stays where he is. If she can keep the man in there until the farmhands come, they’ll give him a beating. The voice says that it’s not planning to move. It sounds weak. Neela glances at the door. Where are the farmhands? Maybe if she screams really loudly they’ll hear her.

And then, the voice says Neela’s name. The person says that they heard Neela’s father say it to her on the day of the wedding. The voice says that he was the freedom fighter who was collecting the valuables. Neela gave him her gold chain. The boy explains that he was hurt in an encounter with the police. He’s too hurt to travel, and he can’t go to a hospital because they’ll throw him in jail. So he came here. He’s hoping that Neela’s father doesn’t turn him in.

Neela asks the boy to come out from behind the hay. He comes out slowly, and Neela draws in a breath at how ill he looks. The soot has worn off parts of his face, and his skin is pale. Parts of his clothing are red with blood, and she can see makeshift bandages of rags tied around his shoulder. His wound is dry and crusty, but even slight pressure makes him groan. When Neela touches his forehead, it’s hot with fever.

What should Neela do? She doesn’t have the skill to nurse him. But Mother doesn’t have much sympathy for the freedom fighters, especially since Neela gave away her chain. Besides, Mother would be unwilling to harbor somebody the police are looking for. If the police find the boy in their home, Neela’s family is sure to be punished severely.

The boy faintly asks if Neela can get him some water. Neela jumps to her feet and rushes out the door to the pump where she fills a bucket. She sees that the kitchen is empty, and she grabs a glass and a couple of wheat rutis that the cook roasted. She goes to her room and finds an old shift of hers.

Back in the barn, she gives the boy the water, holding his head so he can drink. She washes the boy’s face and undoes the bandage. His wound looks terrible, with its torn and swollen flesh. The blood has dried and there’s dirty, crusty patches around it, and it makes Neela dizzy. But she takes a deep breath, tears a strip off of her shift, wets it, and tries to clean the wound as best she can. It seems to hurt a lot because the boy stiffens his whole body and bites his lip to stop himself from crying out. Neela isn’t sure if there’s something in the wound, perhaps a bullet, but she’s too afraid to ask. When it looks slightly better, she bandages it back up and breaks the rutis into small pieces for the boy.

The boy says he’s very tired and asks Neela to let him rest. Neela feels that his forehead is hotter than before. What should she do? She rearranges the bales of hay loosely around the boy, hiding him again. She feeds the buffaloes so their cries don’t attract Mother to the barn. Neela closes her eyes, and prays to her father’s face, hoping it gives her a hint of what to do. But instead, Neela sees the face of her teacher. She’ll have to trust him. There’s no one else.

Neela runs to Panditji who is resting in the cool darkness of his room after his midday meal. He is surprised to see that Neela ran all the way here. Panditji pours a glass of cold water from the earthenware pitcher in his room and hands it to Neela. But Neela can’t wait. She tells him that she has a secret. It’s a boy, and he’s badly hurt. She lowers her voice when she says that he’s a freedom fighter.

Panditji’s face grows anxious. Neela says that he’s very sick, and Panditji must help him. He says if the police come looking for the boy, they will all end up in jail. But after a moment, he gives a resigned sigh. Panditji cannot just let him die.

Panditji washes the wound with warm water and examines it to make sure nothing is lodged inside. He says the young man is lucky. If there was a bullet, he would need an operation. But it seems like the bullet glanced off of him. He lost a lot of blood, but the wound isn’t deep. When the boy tries to speak, Panditji holds up his hand and says he doesn’t want to know what happened. The boy takes a couple of fever pills to chew, and is told to drink a lot of water. When the fever goes down, he can have some rice and fish soup.

Panditji said he’s going to tell Neela’s mother. Neela doesn’t really know her mother if she thinks she will throw a sick boy on the street. Panditji said he’ll come back tomorrow to make sure there’s no infection. Neela will be able to take care of him after that.

Neela carries a milking pail to the barn. Inside the pail is a large bowl of rice and lentils, and another one with fish curry. She has learned that the boy’s name is Samar. As he eats, she washes the dishes in the pond when no one is around and sneaks them back to the kitchen. Mother said that she doesn’t want anyone else to know about the boy. She agreed to Panditji’s request that she let Samar stay until he’s healed. She says she doesn’t even want to see him herself. That way if the police question her, she can truthfully say she never set eyes on such a person. She also tells Neela not to spend too much time with him. Neela has enough rebellious ideas in her head already.

Neela is very grateful that Mother is letting Samar stay. During the first few days, he is too weak to say much. But after he recovers a little, he talks to Neela as she does her chores in the barn. After a few more days, he’s able to help her with some chores. Perhaps he is just as lonely and bored as Neela. Samar tells her about his group of freedom fighters. He says there are twenty. Their leader’s name is Biren. He is a kinder and braver man than Samar has ever known. Biren was a schoolteacher in Calcutta before he became a swadeshi. But one day, someone introduced him to Netaji Subhash Bose. He is one of the greatest leaders. He comes from a rich family in Calcutta and studied in London. He declared he’d never be a slave to England, even though he could have been in civil service. He is afraid of nothing. Biren and Samar have sworn to follow him to death.

There’s such conviction in Samar’s voice that it makes the hair stand up on Neela’s arm. Neela asks Samar how he became a freedom fighter. He explains that his parents died when he was little. He was living with his uncle in Calcutta and going to school where Biren was a teacher. He hated living in his uncle’s house. His uncle is a judge at a big courthouse in Calcutta and he’s very pro-British. He even has pictures of the viceroy and His Majesty hanging on the living room wall. It sickened Samar. He says that his cousin, Bimala, is like an older sister to him, and she’s the only person who still cares for him. She knows what it means to be lonely and unhappy. Samar still keeps in touch with her from time to time.

Samar explains that he had to train to become a freedom fighter. They had to walk from one end of the city to the other in the height of summer with no shoes. The pitch melted and stuck to the soles of their feet, burning them. In monsoon season they went without umbrellas and remained in wet clothes all day to make them strong. They practiced wrestling and martial arts with staffs for hours. They also had to starve themselves for days. They were taught to disguise themselves as peasants, old people, and even women. And they were taught to make bombs and use them and guns. Neela asks if he’s ever fired a gun. Samar says that he has, but he’s not sure how he’d feel if he had to shoot someone. He hopes it never comes to that.

Neela confesses that father went to Calcutta to help with the independence movement too. Samar looks concerned. He says that there’s been a lot of trouble in Calcutta lately. But it’s best to not worry until she knows for sure that there’s something to worry about.

All that evening, Neela feels comforted as she remembers Samar’s words.

Neela wakes up with a jolt to somebody banging on the front door. Who could be here at this time of night? She hears her mother’s voice calling for their manservant. Neela follows them, her heart tight with fear. Mother opens the door to see four or five constables in khaki uniforms. They’re carrying rifles. The constables don’t answer Mother’s questions and instead step right into the house.

The leader says that they heard information that they are harboring a terrorist. They’re going to search the house. Neela’s mother says they may search. Neela can see that Mother is trying to act as though she doesn’t care, but there’s a quiver in her voice. Neela looks around to see if there’s a way she can go and warn Samar. But the Constable points at them and tells them to sit down and not move. He warns them that if the terrorist is found here, things will go bad.

Mother stands up a little bit to the constables. Neela is impressed. Panditji was right about how tough Mother is. Then, Neela realizes what Mother’s doing. She’s trying to delay the start of the search. Neela feels pride for her clever and brave mother. But her efforts don’t work, because the constables don’t even bother answering her. They’re already crashing through the house, checking under the beds, knocking over furniture, throwing down pots and pans. One of them even runs his bayonet through a large sack of rice, spilling the grains onto the floor.

The men call back that there is no one here. Mother coldly says that she could have told them that before they made a mess. The Constable asks if there are any other buildings nearby. Neela suggests the outhouse. They are welcome to look there.

A constable is sent to look in the outhouse, but he reports back that there is no one there. Then, the constable goes outside and shines his flashlight around. He asks what the big, low building to the side is. Neela says it’s the barn. She says it casually, but she worries that they will search it. He barks at the men to go take a look.

Neela explains that they will disturb the cattle. Neela should go first to settle them. She steps to the barn, but the constable grabs her arm. He doesn’t let her move. Neela forces herself to speak. She says that if the buffaloes break their tethers, and come after the constables, then they shouldn’t blame her. The constables all look at each other. One of them says that they can’t shoot at the buffaloes either. Hindu scriptures clearly declare that all cattle are sacred. If one kills a cow, they will go straight to hell.

The leader concedes, and tells Neela to come with them. Neela tries to make as much noise as she can as she walks with the men. But is it enough to warn Samar? She isn’t sure.

As soon as they reach the barn, the constables fling open the door and rush in. The frightened cattle start mooing loudly, and the buffalo stomp and snort. Neela tries to calm them as best she can.

A man answers that it doesn’t look like anyone has been in here in a long time. By the time the constables leave, grumbling and complaining, it’s almost dawn.

Neela stays in the barn, her arms around Budhi’s neck. she’s too weak with relief to move. Samar had heard them, and managed to escape. Probably through one of the windows. And he removed all traces of his stay so Neela and her mother wouldn’t be found out. Neela’s heart is filled with thankfulness, but also with worry. Will he be all right?

Out of habit, she reaches under a rope tied around Budhi’s neck to scratch the soft skin beneath her cow’s throat. She feels something crackling against her hand. There’s a scrap of paper wrapped tightly around the rope. Neela reads a thank you message from Samar. He says if she ever needs help, she should go to Bimala at 99 Milford Lane, near Park Street.

Neela cries with joy at the thought that he took the time to write a note for her, even though his life was in danger. She memorizes the address and then tears the paper into tiny pieces and puts them in with Budhi’s feed.

 

Bad News

Neela is carrying a wicker basket with freshly picked marigolds from their courtyard. She’s wearing a new sky-blue sari with peacocks woven into it and silver anklets on her feet, as she walks behind her mother to the temple of Goddess Kali. They are going to do a special puja, a prayer ceremony, for Father’s welfare. It has been almost three weeks since he left for Calcutta, and they still have received no word from him.

Now, Mother is worried. But hopefully if they do the puja, the goddess will bless them and send him back safely. Neela’s worried, too. She wonders if she should tell Mother why Father had really gone to Calcutta. Mother’s face is already thinner, and there are dark circles under her eyes. Neela suspects she’s not sleeping well.

When Neela goes to sleep, her dreams are filled with garbled, disturbing images. She sees the mysterious and beautiful woman, with sad eyes and a crown of jewels. Samar smiling as a great fire blazes behind him, and her father, looking ill and gaunt. Neela lifts her sari a little more to walk easier. Mother insists that Neela is old enough now to be wearing a sari, especially to a puja.

Even though it’s not a special festival day, the temple is very crowded. A woman tells them that another family, the Chatterjees, have a new grandson. They’ve invited friends and relatives from many villages. Neela and her mother push through to the priest and hand him their offerings along with some money so that he will chant the prayers for them. Neela finds an empty spot to wait while Mother talks to him. She gazes at the statue of the goddess, obscured by garlands of marigolds and red hibiscus. Kali, the dark goddess, is known as the protectress of the good and destroyer of evil. Neela bends her head and says a prayer for her father and Samar.

Neela hears her name, and turns to see a woman. It is a woman Neela vaguely recognizes from the wedding. The woman is dressed in a fine handloom sari, and she wears a lot of beautiful jewelry. Neela doesn’t really know who this woman is, so maybe she’s a relative of the Chatterjees.

When the woman asks to speak with Neela, she nods her head. This woman seems really interested in Neela. Not in telling her what to do or what she is doing wrong. The woman wants to know all about how Neela spends her day, and isn’t surprised when she hears Neela likes to go fishing and to climb trees. The woman says she’s also fond of cows. She lives a couple of hours from here in Jal Gram, and they have quite a few cows that she milks each day. Neela and the woman laugh together. Then, the woman invites Neela to come visit her sometime.

Neela nods in excitement. She’s always wanted to see new places. She’ll have to ask her mother’s permission of course. The woman nods. It’s time to see if Mother is finished with the priest. Neela watches from a distance as the woman and Mother speak for a few minutes, and then Mother tells Neela to go home. She can eat if Mother is late.

An hour passes, and Mother still isn’t home. Neela sits on the porch, but she’s reluctant to eat by herself. She thinks about a time when all of them, Father, Mother, Usha, and herself used to sit on the porch to have a snack. Now, half of her family is gone. Just then, Neela hears the twang of an ektara. She looks up to see the baoul. Neela runs to him and says she’s glad to see him.

The baoul asks where Neela’s parents are. Apparently, he doesn’t know Father has gone away. Neela says that Father went away and Mother is at the temple. Neela asks the baoul if he would like to join her for lunch. He smiles and says he would. Neela wipes the porch with a damp rag, unrolls two mats, and pours some water. She arranges the rice and curry on two brass plates, making sure there’s still enough for Mother. She asks the baoul if he came from Calcutta. Does he know what’s happening?

The baoul shakes his head. He was in Dhaka across the river. He went to see what the freedom fighters on the other side of Bengal are doing. He heard news of Calcutta while he was there, but nothing good. There was a big march demanding that the British quit India. On the day of the march, the British authorities ordered their soldiers to charge the demonstrators with nightsticks. He heard it was a terrible sight and many heads were cracked open. When some of the marchers fought back, they were arrested and thrown in jail.

Neela’s eyes filled with tears. She says that Father went to Calcutta to join that very march. And they haven’t heard back from him since. The baoul pets her hand and says he doesn’t think he is dead. She must trust him—he has a sixth sense for such things. But, he may be imprisoned. The baoul says it won’t be easy to get him out. The government isn’t allowing a trial for political prisoners. They’re just deporting them in droves to the prison colony. Just then, the gate creaks. Mother is home.

Mother begins to say that she has wonderful news for Neela. And then, her eyes fall on the baoul. She frowns at him and says he’s not supposed to come to the village anymore. They’ll get in trouble if he’s seen at their house. She says the baoul is nothing but mischief. For all she knows, he is the reason that Father went off to Calcutta. He pretended he was going on business, but he couldn’t fool her. Neela stares. All this time, she had known the truth!

The baoul looks at mother with kind eyes. He says that he knows that she is worried about her husband. But great things are going on right now. The old empire is crumbling and the new order will take its place. Brave and caring men like Father want to be a part of this moment.

Mother hisses that she doesn’t want to listen to his metaphors. All she wants to know is if he can bring Father back. If he can’t, he should leave. The minstrel stands up calmly, and says that he will do what she wishes. He will pray for Father’s safe return.

Neela can tell that Mother feels bad. Mother often tells Neela that a guest is sacred and that it’s bad luck if a guest goes away hungry. But today, all she says is she must lie down. She will tell Neela what her news is later.

Neela puts her bundle on the steps of the ruined Krishna temple and wipes the sweat from her face. The afternoon sun is very hot, but she doesn’t want to wait until Mother wakes up. She looks to the side, and sees the baoul lying down in the peaceful shade of a pillar. Neela calls to him and says she saved his lunch for him.

The baoul says that Neela shouldn’t have come. Her mother will be angry. And she shouldn’t blame her mother either. This is a very hard time for her. He opens the bundle and takes out the food Neela wrapped for him in banana leaves. He eats with relish. Neela asks how they can help Father. The baoul thinks for a few minutes, and then he says that he’ll go back to Calcutta and make some discreet inquiries.

Neela suggests that maybe the freedom fighters can help. The group that came here. The baoul nodes and says it’s an excellent idea. Biren is a good man and brave, too. He says he will contact Samar’s cousin once he gets to Calcutta so she can put him in touch with them. But before he leaves, he wants to teach her the song, “Vande Mataram.”

The minstrel sings the words, and Neela sings them after him, picking up the tune effortlessly. Her voice is pure and sweet. The words resonate in Neela’s heart all the way home.

When Neela gets home, she goes straight to her room on tiptoe. She wants to wash up, but she’s afraid the sound of the pump will wake mother. The baoul said there was a train that stopped at Shona Gram at six in the morning. He would get on it to go to Calcutta. And if father is in prison, the baoul promises to get him out.

Neela feels good about this promise. Deep in her heart, she knows there’s more to the baoul than most people suspect. She wouldn’t be surprised if he does manage to bring Father back. With a smile on her face, she dozes off.

When Neela wakes up, the shadows outside her bedroom window have grown long. She hears the voice of the half-witted son of the village goatherd calling her. The boy says that he has something for her. He hands Neela a note and a bundle. She recognizes it as belonging to the baoul. With a beating heart, she reads the note.

The note says that after Neela left, he learned that the police are looking for him. So now, he must go into hiding. This means he cannot go to Calcutta to find Father. Neela must do it herself. Vande Mataram!

Neela’s heart sinks as she reads the note. Then, she hears Mother’s calls. Neela pushes the boy out the door before she answers. It seems like Mother has recovered a little bit of her good humor. Neela feels guilty about deceiving Mother, but she doesn’t know what else to do. So much has happened so quickly and her head is whirling.

That evening, as Neela lets her mother comb through her hair, Mother tells her about the woman at the temple. Her name is Sarojini Misra, and she’s the wife of a rich businessman in Jal Gram. She wants Neela to be her daughter-in-law.

Neela is too stunned to say anything, but Mother doesn’t seem to notice. Mother says that the woman really likes Neela. Mother asked the Chatterjees about her, and they all say that she is a very nice person and well-respected in Jal Gram. With this marriage, Neela will be able to have everything she wants. The woman’s son is an educated young man—he even studied for a year in college. He helps his father run the family business.

Neela whispers that she’s much too young and that she doesn’t want to get married at all. Mother says not to worry. The Misras are not in a rush. The wedding can take place in a couple of years. But they want to go ahead with a small engagement ceremony.

Neela protests that she hasn’t even seen the son. Mother says that she invited the whole family over in a couple of days for lunch so they can all meet.

Neela cries that Father will miss it. If her father was here, he wouldn’t be rushing her into an engagement. Mother sighs, and says that it is unfortunate he’s not here. But he wouldn’t want them to let a good match slip through their fingers. It’s not every day a rich and cultured family wants to form a marriage alliance with their daughter. Neela knows that Mother won’t change her mind.

Alone in her room, Neela gives in to tears. What is she going to do?! An engagement ceremony is a serious thing. Once completed, girls cannot back out. She wishes she had someone to discuss her problems with, like Samar. But she knows she will never see Samar again. And with father in jail, who will rescue him?

After some time, Neela grows tired of her tears. She opens the bundle the boy brought to see the baoul’s minstrel outfit. Without thinking, Neela slips on the saffron robe. On the baoul, it was calf-length, but on her it reaches the ankles. She’s glad she’s been practicing wearing a sari because now she can walk in it without tripping. She bundles up her hair and ties the turban tightly over it. An idea begins to form in her mind.

 

Alone in a City of Strangers

Neela wakes before dawn and puts on the clothes that the baoul left for her. She tiptoes to the kitchen where she takes a handful of the housekeeping money in the earthenware jar. She apologizes to her mother in her head, and then writes a letter. She must choose simple words because her mother can’t read very well. At the end, she writes that she’s going to look for Father in Calcutta and bring him back. She will be careful.

Neela slips out of the house while it’s still dark and runs to the station. Neela has no clock, and she’s afraid she’ll miss the train, but she’s one of the first to arrive at the platform. She stands to one side, her face turned away from the fellow passengers traveling this early. When she buys her ticket, she is scared the clerk will recognize her. But when she asks for a one-way ticket to Calcutta, he merely yawns and pushes a cardboard rectangle across the counter without even glancing at her face.

Neela stares out the window as the train picks up speed. She shades her eyes carefully so the coal dust from the steam engine doesn’t get into them. It seems like she’s been on the train for a very long time.

Neela turns to the man sitting next to her, and asks how far it is to Calcutta. He says it’s just a few more minutes. When he asks if it’s her first time to the city, Neela shakes her head. She says she’s been there before. She has relatives in Calcutta. She hopes the man will leave her alone, but instead he asks where they live. Neela reluctantly says it’s near Park Street. She would have given a different street name, but she doesn’t know that many streets.

The man raises his eyebrows. Park Street is a fancy part of town. He says a lot of British sahibs live there, as well as some rich Indians. Neela can tell he can’t see how the relatives of a baoul could live in such an expensive neighborhood. Neela quickly says that her aunt is a maid in a rich man’s house.

When the train comes to a halt with a screech of the brakes, Neela follows other passengers out of the compartment. She looks around at the huge station in stupefaction. The station at Shona Gram is nothing more than a raised platform and a small ticket booth. But this is an enclosed area, with vaulted ceilings reaching to the sky. She didn’t expect it to be this big. People mill around and push past each other to get to the exit. And the noise! She can hear the shouts of the vendors, the station clock chiming the hour, and the steam engines blowing their whistles.

All of the people on the platform push around Neela, shoving her so hard she almost falls. She wonders how she’ll ever get to Milford Lane. The crush of people carried Neela toward the big exit doors. But outside, it’s just as confusing. There are so many more vendors selling everything from food to clothing to pots and pans to cures for diseases. Families of beggars huddle on mats. There’s big red buses, and vehicles that look like train cars joined together connected to wires that crackle overhead. There’s carriages of various kinds, ones pulled by horses, ones pulled by mules, and rickshaws pulled by men. What should Neela do?

A voice next to Neela’s ear asks her if she’s lost. Neela defensively says that it’s been a while since she was here last. Everything looks different. The man from the train nods and says that’s just Calcutta. Blink and there’s always something new. The man points to a tram marked Alipore, and tells Neela that it can drop her off at Park Street.

With a thank you, Neela climbs into the tram and buys a ticket from the uniformed conductor for a few coins. She almost sits in a seat marked for ladies, but stops herself just in time and sits by a window.

As the tram crosses a bridge to enter the actual city of Calcutta, Neela stares up at the shining metal girders. It’s the largest structure that she has ever seen. It looks solid and she can’t believe it is raised each day to let ships pass through to the ocean. The streets of Calcutta are broad and crowded with vehicles, people, and even animals. She remembers Samar mentioning how the pitch melts on a hot day and sticks to peoples’ feet. The buildings that line the streets and are huge and stately. They have massive pillars and green shattered windows. Some are set back farther from the road and surrounded by trees, and they look like fancy homes. Elsewhere, there are factories spewing black smoke and narrow alleys leading away from tram lines, where garbage is piling up. They pass churches and a tall monument in the center of the field. It looks like a palace.

Neela wonders how many people, rich and poor, must live in such a huge city. Calcutta is the capital of British India. How will she ever find Samar? She wishes she were back in the familiar safety of her village. But with a shake of her head, she reminds herself to pull herself together. She can’t give up before she even starts.

Neela gets off the tram at the corner of Park Street, which does look like a very fancy part of town. Shiny motor cars driven by men in uniforms speed noisily down the broad street. Many of the cars carry white passengers. They must be British. But except for pink skin and unusual clothes, they look just like anyone else. Why did the freedom fighters hate them so much?

Just then, a chauffeur in one of the cars shouts at Neela. He asks her what she’s staring at. He exclaims to himself that she must be one of those “damn beggars.” He says that they can’t get away from them anywhere in this city. They all ought to be whipped. Neela flinches, her face burning. The man spoke with such disgust, as if he didn’t think she was a human being. She became aware of her old clothes and bare feet, on a street where everyone is so well-dressed. But at the same time, she’s furious. This isn’t even his country. She remembers Samar saying that the British had come here merely as traders with the East India Company and then took control of India through trickery. And now, they think they are better than the Indians. For the first time, Neela begins to understand why the freedom fighters are willing to risk their lives for independence.

Neela wanders for a while, aware of the suspicious looks passers-by are giving her. She sees many streets leading off from Park Street, but none of them are the one she’s looking for. She’s beginning to get hungry and tired. Her feet are sore from walking on the stone pavement, which is so much rougher and harder than the dirt roads at home. She hasn’t eaten at all, and it’s already late afternoon. There are plenty of restaurants and cake shops on Park Street, but Neela knows that she can’t go into them even if she had money.

Finally, in an alleyway, Neela sees a man unloading a wheelbarrow. He must be bringing supplies to one of the stores. He’s the first person she has seen on the street dressed in Indian clothes with a turban around his head. She asks him where Milford Lane is. She is lucky, and he points it out to her. He tells her to go around to the back of the house. The rich people don’t like servants coming in their front gate.

The house at 99 Milford Lane is an imposing mansion. Neela stares at it from across the road and feels intimidated. Beyond the tall wrought-iron gates, there is a gatekeeper sitting on a stool. She sees water from a white fountain and flowers that fill the extensive gardens. She hesitantly approaches the gatekeeper and says she’s a friend of Bimala. The gatekeeper looks her up and down with disbelief. He scoffs. What would Bimala mem sahib be wanting with a friend like her. He tells her to make herself scarce.

Neela pleads with the gatekeeper, on the verge of tears, but he is adamant that she must leave. He shoves her, and she falls against the compound wall and scrapes her arm. Neela moves away and sits down on the hard concrete pavement, at her wit’s end.

Just then, a shiny black car pulls up near her. Neela scrambles up to see who’s inside of it, but she can’t see much. It must be someone important though, because the gatekeeper stands tall with a smart salute and opens the gates. The car is almost inside when Neela hears a voice ask who that is.

A young woman of about eighteen years lowers the car window and looks at Neela with a frown. She’s pretty and is fashionably dressed in a sari made of a thin, gauzy material that looks like dragonfly wings. The gatekeeper addresses her as Bimala mem sahib, and says that Neela is nobody—just a street urchin. Bimala begins to put up her car window and the car begins to move again. Neela runs to the car, dodging the yelling gatekeeper. She’s terrified, but this is her only chance.

Neela says she is not a street urchin. She’s Samar’s friend and he told her to come to see Bimala. The car comes to a halt and the window’s lowered again. She asks Neela if she really said Samar’s name. And when Neela nods, Bimala opens the door and motions for her to get in. Neela looks down at her dirty feet and hesitates. Bimala says the dirt doesn’t matter; she needs to get inside.

The chauffeur and gatekeeper are both protesting loudly that Bimala mustn’t let a stranger into the house. The master will be furious if he hears of it. Bimala says with a cool smile that they must make sure that the master doesn’t hear of it.

Neela follows Bimala inside the mansion. They enter a room that’s furnished with dark mahogany settees and an easy chair with a cushioned footstool. There’s a huge painting on the wall of a wrinkled, old white woman in a crown with a long puffy dress. Bimala says it is Queen Victoria. She used to be in the big drawing room until she died. Now, that room has a picture of King George VI, their current monarch. They’re careful to keep up with the times.

Neela can’t help but stare at Bimala. She’s so elegant with her stylish clothes and jewelry. She wears a tiny wrist watch, carries a purse, and wears shoes with little heels. She’s the first woman Neela has ever seen who wears shoes.

Bimala drops into the easy chair and kicks off her shoes. She removes her silk ankle socks and throws them on the floor with a grimace. She exclaims that her father wants her to wear those outlandish things. He wants them to be “cultured,” like his British friends. But they’re so hot and uncomfortable. Then, Bimala changes the topic and asks about Samar. She says she worries about her hot-headed cousin.

Quickly, Neela explains that she came to Calcutta to search for her father and that Samar had given her Bimala’s address. She’s hoping that Bimala can help Neela get in touch with him. Bimala looks disappointed and doubtful. She says that the last couple of times she left a note for Samar, he never got back to her. Bimala has a feeling he might be away from Calcutta on an assignment.

Neela says that Samar was injured and Neela helped him get better. Until the authorities came. But he got away. But what if he can’t get back to Calcutta? What will Neela do about her father?

Bimala says that Neela must not lose heart. Bimala thanks her for helping Samar. For now, Bimala will send Bishu, her personal assistant, with a message to Samar. He can also ask around about Neela’s father. Neela mustn’t look so worried. Bishu has been with their family since before Bimala was born, and he’s more of a friend and advisor than an attendant. Bimala trusts him with her life.

When Bimala asks Neela what her name is, she hesitates. Bimala might still think she’s a boy. But she decides to be truthful, and says her name is Neela as she takes off her turban and shakes out her long hair.

Bimala stares at Neela for what seems like a very long time. Neela is worried. But then, Bimala says that Neela had fooled her! Bimala says she wants to know all about Neela. How Neela came to be dressed like this and how she met Samar. But first, it’s time to get Neela some proper girls’ clothes and something to eat. And maybe she’d like a bath. Bimala will tell her father that she has a friend visiting as well, so Neela isn’t thrown out. They are going to have so much fun, and don’t worry. They’ll find both Samar and Neela’s father in the bargain.

 

Neila pours the last mug full of warm water on top of herself and sighs luxuriously. She wipes herself with a thick towel and looks around again. She can’t believe that a room as grand as this could exist. Bimala’s bathroom has a white sink and shiny brass taps. A huge bathtub with feet like birds’ claws sits in a corner. It has a pretty soap dish and a big bar of scented soap. The bathroom even smells lovely. Bimala says it is lavender. It comes from Britain. She says that Samar used to get mad about the lavender when he lived here. Bimala would rather not use the foreign stuff but Papa doesn’t agree. And she can’t fight with him all the time.

When Neela is clean, she slips on a pale pink dress with lace cuffs and pearly buttons down the front. The waist is gathered and has a sash that ties into a bow in the back. The dress reaches her calves and has a soft pink petticoat of the finest linen. Lastly, Bimala gave her a pair of black leather shoes and shiny silver buckles.

When Bimala sees Neela for the first time, Neela protests that the clothes are too fine. It’s obviously foreign-made. Bimala says the dress was just gathering dust in the cupboard because she outgrew it. It’s a disguise. Neela must fit the role that they came up with for her. Neela nods. She’s supposed to be a cousin of one of Bimala’s classmates at Lady Brabourne College. She came from her home in the countryside to spend a week with her cousin Calcutta, only to find that she and her family have come down with chicken pox. Their doctor has recommended that Neela not stay with them.

Limping because of her new shoes, Neela feels her heart beat wildly as she follows Bimala to the dining room to meet her father. Surely the honorable Lal Mohan Das, the eminent judge, wouldn’t be fooled by their story. When they get to the table and Neela sees the silverware set by the plates, she is hesitant. At home, they always eat with their hands, like most Indians. How will she manage all the utensils? What if the servants give her away? Bimala assured Neela that all of the servants will not reveal her true identity, but Neela is still doubtful.

The servants don’t say a word, and Bimala’s father only briefly glances at Neela, before giving an absent-minded nod. He says that he’s glad that his daughter has someone closer to her own age to spend time with.

Neela can see in Bimala’s eyes that despite all of her criticisms of her father’s ways, she loves him dearly. Bimala’s father says that there’s even more terrorists to be deported. There was an attempt on the governor general’s life by a group of young men. Some of them are most likely teenagers. The country has gone crazy. Gandhi’s followers are bad enough.

Neela tenses, and Bimala stares at her father, her face stricken. He answers that Samar was not among them. But if he were, he still would do his job, even though Samar is his dead sister’s son. Bimala nods wordlessly, and they finished the rest of their dinner in silence, even though Neela hardly eats a thing.

The next morning, Bishu leaves a message for Samar at the grocery store. He also goes to stop at the Alipore Prison. He has a friend who works in the kitchen there, and he says that a lot of freedom fighters are being kept in that jail. Soon after, Bimala has to go to her college classes, so Neela is left at home with no one to talk to. She paces the upstairs balcony restlessly. Bimala said she can read whatever book she’d like from the library, and use the gramophone in the music room, but Neela is too anxious to read or listen to songs. What if Bishu can’t find out where Father is? What if he’s not in prison, but lying wounded and ill somewhere else. What if he’s dying? And what about Samar? He’s really just a boy. What can he do against the British empire?

Three days later, they still have not heard anything. Bishu’s friend from prison was willing to help, but he didn’t know much. The prison cooks don’t have any contact with prisoners. Almost no one working there knows the real identity of the prisoners, who are referred to only by numbers stitched on their uniforms.

When Bishu asks Neela if her father has any distinguishing features, she says all he has is an old V-shaped scar on the back of his left hand. Of Samar, there’s no news at all. Bimala says they can’t do anything else. They will just need to wait. Waiting has always been hard for Neela, and this time it’s even more so. She tosses and turns in bed. She dreams of flames and floods, and of her mother’s face thinning with worry. In her dreams, her father calls to her for help, and the beautiful, crowned woman beckons sadly to her with silvery arms.

Neela looks so dejected, that even Bimala’s father notices and asks if she’s feeling homesick. He says she mustn’t sit in the house and mope. Even if Bimala’s cousin is ill, Neela cannot see her. Calcutta is a fine city, so Neela must make the most of her time. Bimala’s father suggests that Bimala take Neela to see the dress rehearsal of her next performance. Bimala will be performing a dance drama based on one of Tagore’s poems.

Neela is surprised to find that Bimala’s father is so kind to her. She hadn’t expected such kindness from the man who had been so harsh with Samar and who was such a ruthless judge. There are many sides to people. Before he goes to bed, he kisses Bimala on her cheek and lays his hand on her head for a moment, much like Neela’s own father would. The other day, Neela saw him secretly passing a stack of rupee bills to the cook, whose sick son was taken to the hospital. Neela had been prepared to hate him, but she simply cannot.

The next day, Bimala takes Neela sightseeing. They drive by the racecourse and walk along a cobbled footpath where the Hooghly River goes on its way out to the sea. They shop for trinkets at a bazaar, where Neela buys a pair of white conch shell bangles for her mother, and they offer prayers at Kali Ghat, the famous temple of the Goddess Kali. But Neela is distracted the entire time. Bimala insists that Neela must be patient. Complicated things take time to achieve. But Neela has a feeling that time is running out.

Later that day, as Bimala and Neela sip their tea, a bearded man stands outside the gate of their home. He’s a street vendor, and he wears loose kurta and dhoti, but he doesn’t carry any wares. instead, he holds a drum and has a tiny monkey dressed in a velvet cap and jacket on his shioulder. Bimala claps her hands and says it’s a monkey-dance man. They’re monkeys who do amazing tricks. The gatekeeper grudgingly lets the man enter. The man bows deeply to the girls and plays on his drum. He sings a song about a monkey’s wedding while his monkey dances. For the first time in days, Neela catches herself laughing.

When the performer is done, he asks if the ladies will give him some money to buy food. Bimala says yes, but instead of throwing the money down the balcony, she runs downstairs and straight into the man’s arms. He references her by name, and says she’s going to give him away.

The performer is Samar! He is wearing a false beard and mustache, and it makes him look so much older. He says it’s not safe to stay. Bimala hurries Samar inside the house, and tells him to talk to Neela while she goes to talk to the gatekeeper. Neela laughs as Bimala and Samar playfully joke a little together before she leaves. Samar asks Neela what brought her to Calcutta. Neela explains that her father never returned to Shona Gram. She can’t even hold back the tears as she confides her fears. She tells him how much she misses home and her mother.

Samar says that they should not worry. They’ll think of something. And with his and Biren’s help, they’ll come up with a good plan. Bimala returns with a plateful of puffy fried bread and potato-and-cauliflower curry. She nods reassuringly at Neela as Samar takes the food.

Samar explains he won’t be able to come home again. It’s too risky. They must send Bishu to the grocery the day after tomorrow. Samar will leave a message for him. After checking to make sure none of the servants are around, Bimala lets Samar out through the side door that faces the alley. They hug each other and he says he’ll be okay. He has no intention of dying or missing out on Bimala’s eventual wedding feast, whenever that is.

The girls can’t help smiling as Samar says goodbye to them. His face looks handsome and brave in the flickering light of the gas street lamp. Neela whispers goodbye to Samar, feeling more hopeful than she had in weeks.

 

A Daring Plan

A voice yells at Neela to wake up. Neela sits up in confusion, rubbing her tired eyes. She laid awake for much of the night, wondering about Biren and Samar and what plan they could come up with. For a moment, Neela thinks she’s back home in the village on her own cot. Had she merely dreamed that she went to Calcutta? And then, she realizes the bed is too luxurious for home. Bimala teases Neela that she sleeps so much. Bimala woke her because she needs to talk to her before she goes to her classes.

Bimala announces that she has news. It’s from Bishu’s friend who works at the prison. Yesterday, some of the guards who serve lunch to the prisoners were sick with influenza, so Bishu’s friend was called to serve. He noticed that one of the prisoners had a scar like a V on his hand. When Bishu’s friend was about to serve the prisoner, he dropped his ladle on purpose. As he picked it up, he asked if it was Neela’s father from Shona Gam, and the man nodded.

Neela cries out, almost too happy to believe that they had found her father. Bimala says that she already sent Bishu to the grocery to let Biren and Samar know. At least they know he is alive. Bishu’s friend said that Neela’s father looks very thin, has a dirty bandage around his head, and walks with a limp. But he didn’t seem ill.

Neela blinks back tears. It could be a lot worse. Bimala adds that Bishu’s friend went into the guards’ quarters and overheard the guard saying that a large group of prisoners was going to be deported tonight. Neela cries in dismay. Bimala hisses to keep quiet. They don’t want any of the servants to overhear them and tell Papa. Anyway, Biren knows about the deportations, too. They’ll just need to trust him to see what he decides to do.

Bimala sees the look of impatience on Neela’s face and smiles. She knows it’s hard for Neela to wait.

Neela has lunch by herself, barely picking at the fish fries with tomato sauce that the cook brought. After lunch, she goes to the music room and looks through the poem that Bimala will be performing tonight. The poem is titled Bashab Datta, and it’s about a beautiful, dancing girl from ancient times who falls in love with a young monk. She invites him to her home, but the monk refuses saying the time isn’t right. Years pass, and the dancer falls ill with smallpox. The townspeople, afraid of catching the disease, put her outside the walls of the city where she lies delirious and alone, preparing to die. When a stranger comes and nurses her back to health with love and compassion, it is the monk.

Neela likes the way the poem gives her a sense of a different time and place. Tagore’s words are powerful and evocative, and they paint pictures inside Neela’s closed eyelids. She sees the beautiful dancer walking home, as if she’s really there. She imagines that the monk looks a little bit like Samar.

But Neela’s mind is too restless for her to focus on the poem for long, so she begins to look through the other records in the music room. There are so many songs that she hasn’t even heard of. There’s religious songs, songs by Tagore, and songs by a singer called Rajani Kanta. There’s folk songs by baouls of Bengal. Neela thinks of her own baoul at this. Hopefully he is safe. Because she’s thinking of him, she starts absentmindedly humming. Before long, she realizes that she is singing “Vande Mataram.”

When she’s done, there’s a moment of silence, followed by some clapping from the door. Neela whirls around, afraid she’ll be in trouble for singing a banned song. Luckily, it’s only Bimala. She says that Neela sings beautifully. And the song is powerful. It makes her understand a little bit of how Samar must feel.

Changing the topic, Bimala says that Bishu brought a message back from the grocery. The note is unsigned and short. It says that N must be at the intersection of Rajmohan and Belgachi roads at eleven tonight. She must come alone, and B must not be involved in this any further.

Bimala is so excited that she’ll finally get to do something exciting. But then she realizes Samar’s right. It would cause a great scandal if she’s caught trying to free the prisoners that her father sentenced.

Bishu tells them that the two roads are small side streets near the docks. It is the route the army lorry is supposed to use to get the prisoners to the docks. Bimala says that they must figure out a way to get Neela over there tonight.

Together, the girls decide that Neela will accompany Bimala to the dress rehearsal at the Drama Club. On the way back, Bimala will tell the driver to drop Neela at the intersection mentioned in the note. Bishu will wait for them there, and will stay until Samar comes. Bimala tears the notes into many pieces and gives them to Bishu to burn. She is sure that Biren has planned the next stage carefully.

The members of the Drama Club are like Bimala, daughters of rich, old Calcutta families who don’t want their children getting involved in political messes. For the most part, the children don’t want it either, as Neela can clearly see by their imported clothing, shoes, and makeup. Their manners are affected and western, and Neela thinks they’re quite comical. Their talk is peppered with fancy English phrases, and they discuss mostly new fashions, upcoming parties, engagements, and high-society scandals.

Bimala introduces Neela to all of her friends. But the young women don’t pay much attention to Neela once they figure out she’s not part of an important Calcutta family. Many of them are enrolled in women’s colleges, but Neela thinks they seem less interested in books and more interested in landing a rich husband. Why do they feel this way? Even Neela knows more about the world than they do? Neela wonders of Bimala would have been like that, too, if Samar hadn’t made her realize there was more to life than fancy jewelry and French perfume.

In addition to playing the dancer’s role, Bimala is in charge of the makeup. Neela watches as Bimala transforms the Drama Club into wrinkled old men and women, a haughty queen, a palace guard, and a monk with matted hair. The best part comes in the last scene when Bimala turns herself into a bloated, pox-infected woman.

When Neela asks how she does it, Bimala says it’s not difficult. She mixes the skin-colored paint with powder and lets it crust up on the skin. Then she adds another layer of reddish paint and then oily, oozy stuff. It’s wonderfully disgusting. And with that, Bimala rushes onstage.

It is late by the time the rehearsal is over. Neela is sitting in the backseat of Bimala’s car, her heart pounding. In just a little while, she’ll be dropped off at the place specified in the note. The army lorry carrying the prisoners will arrive at the same spot soon after. And then? If all goes well, Neela will have Father back. And if not? Neela shutters when she thinks of that. She can’t bear to think of having to return home alone.

Bimala says that they are almost there. She has some things for Neela that may come in handy. An old cotton frock, with long sleeves and a collar. Neela should put it on over her dress. Silently, Neela pulls the dowdy, old frock over her lace-and-silk dress she wore to the Drama Club. She slips off the shiny leather shoes and braids her hair into a tight, old fashioned braid. Bimala is right. Neela now looks like any poor girl on a street center. Bimala says she put some food in the bundle with some money, just enough to get Neela and her father home. Biren will have clothes for her father, too.

Then, she hands over a packet for Samar. He’s probably short of money. Bimala says it has been a joy having Neela there, and planning all of this. She feels like she’s part of something big, at least for a little while. She also says she kept the baoul’s costume that Neela was wearing when she arrived, to remind her. Neela reaches for Bimala’s hand and squeezes it. Samar was right about Bimala. The two say their goodbyes, and both agree they hope to see each other again in the future.

The driver slows down the car and says they’ve arrived. It’s in the middle of nowhere, not safe late at night. Bimala says they’ll be leaving in just a minute and she whispers to Neela to wait in the shadow of the big banyan tree on the corner. Bishu’s probably already there waiting. She hands Neela the bundle, and says the last thing in there is her makeup box. Who knows if it’ll come in handy.

Neela stands under the banyan tree, watching the receding taillights of Bimala’s car get swallowed up by the darkness. There’s total silence around her, and she feels like she is the last living person on earth. This is not a residential area, so there’s no streetlamps. And Bishu isn’t there. Neela calls Bishu’s name softly into the darkness, asking where he is. But there is no reply. Neela’s hands are clammy with sweat as she clutches at the bundle. Is this whole thing a plot? What if Bishu isn’t the loyal servant Bimala thinks he is. Perhaps he’s going to kidnap her and sell her to slave traders. Just then, Neela hears a rushing sound behind her, and she turns to see a shape creeping out through the roots of the banyan tree.

Neela’s blood pounds in her head with fear. Whoever he is, he’s not going to take her without a fight. Before she can think her actions through and grow too scared to move, she rushes at the shape and swings the bundle as hard as she can. It hits him in the belly with a grunt and he falls. The attacker tells her to stop. He’s already been hurt enough by her. Then, he starts to laugh. It is Samar!

Neela says that he shouldn’t creep up on a person like that. He scared her half to death. He explains he was trying to attract her attention silently, but it just wasn’t meant to be. Samar says Bishu is helping with the cart.

Neela looks over to see a long flat, two-wheeled cart in the middle of the narrow street, blocking the way. It’s loaded with bundles and boxes of various sizes. Bishu is kneeling and removing a wheel. Their story is that their cart broke down on the way back from the market, and it was too heavy to push out of the way. When the lorry stops, and it must because the road is too narrow to get past, they’re going to ask the soldiers for help. Neela must make sure she looks suitably scared. When the soldiers get down, then Biren and his men will be waiting.

Bishu comes up to Samar and says that he is done. Samar thanks him, and dismisses him to go home. Just in case things go wrong, he must not be found near here. Neela can see that he wants to be a part of the rescue, but Samar says that Bimala needs him. In just a moment, Bishu has faded into the darkness.

Then, it is just the two of them, sitting on the lopsided cart waiting. Neela stares intently at the warehouse, but she can see no movement. She hears the clang of a bell from some distance away. It’s eleven o’clock. In the dark, Samar’s hand reaches for hers. His fingers are sweaty, just as hers are. It makes her feel a little better knowing that he is nervous, too.

 

The Rescue Mission

It seems like an age that Neela has been sitting on the lopsided cart. The church bells’ echoes have long since died away and been replaced by thick silence. Where is the lorry? She glances at Samar, but he’s staring worriedly down the dark road, biting his knuckle.

Just then, they hear the roar of a heavy engine reverberating through the night. In a moment, they see the headlights of a covered lorry as it bumps its way on the little street. Samar quickly stands up, yelling and waving his hands in the air to get the lorry’s attention. Neela waves, too. She glances at the warehouse to see the freedom fighters are in position, but she’s afraid the men in the lorry will notice. One careless glance will give their presence away.

The lorry is coming straight at them, very fast. She hopes the driver can see them properly in the dark. Maybe he would see them, but too late, and he wouldn’t be able to stop. Maybe he wouldn’t even care to stop, but would slam his way through the cart.

But then, Neela hears a screech of brakes, and the lorry comes to a halt, just a couple of feet away from them. An angry voice curses at them to clear the road. Samar asks them for help. A British officer carrying a gun jumps down from where he is sitting.

Samar goes up to him, and bows differentially. He says that his cousin and him are having trouble. Neela tries to look suitably scared, but it’s not difficult. Her heart hammers in her chest as she watches the officer from behind her raised arm to see what he’ll do. Samar explains, in broken English mixed with Bengali, that they’ve been trying to move the cart, but they can’t by themselves.

The officer calls them idiots, children of swine, who couldn’t find another place to break down. He viciously swipes at his gun as Samar, who ducks just in time. Then, the officer orders a couple of men out of the cart to help them push. Four Indian soldiers jump down from the truck, and run to the cart. Neela can barely manage to step away before it’s dragged into the ditch and tilted over, along with everything on it. Neela cries out and tries to save some of the boxes, but the soldiers laugh and shove her away. One of the soldiers snarls that it’s too late now, unless Neela wants to end up in the ditch herself.

Neela stares in angry astonishment at the man in his uniform. He’s short and dark, with a curly mustache. Why, he’s an Indian, a Bengali just like her. How can he be so cruel to her? How could he slavishly obey a Britisher, no matter what the man commands?

Behind Neela, she hears confused cries and yells. Neela turns around to see that a number of dark figures have appeared on the scene. One of them, his nose and mouth covered by a scarf, holds a gun to the back of the British officer’s head. Biren has arrived.

In just a few minutes, the freedom fighters have taken the soldiers’ weapons. Biren instructs his team to tie them securely. The officer glares at him and says that he is Mayor Lytton. They will never get away with this. Biren just laughs, and then says that they should be gagged.

Another freedom fighter says they should shoot them. Biren shakes his head, remembering the vow they took. Unnecessary killing is not their way. Instead, they should be rolled into the ditch, since Mayor Lytton seems to like it so much. The mud will keep them nice and cool, and they won’t be found for a while.

Biren points to a lanky young man, and says that it’s his job to take the wheel. He says he wants a handful of people on the truck, and they should keep their rifles with them. The rest should scatter. He beckons to Neela, and tells her to climb into the back. Neela will help untie the prisoners.

The back of the lorry is covered in canvas, and is crowded, dark, and smelly with the odor of bodies that haven’t been bathed in a long time. But Neela doesn’t mind. Armed with a knife, she goes from one man to another, cutting their bonds and giving them water from a canteen. They each thank her, but none of them are her father. Neela’s heart sinks as she makes her way through the lorry. Was Biren mistaken? Is there another lorry that they missed? She’s glad all the men on the truck are freed, but her eyes filled with tears of disappointment.

Neela has almost reached the front end of the lorry when she sees a man sitting on the floor, half-hidden behind two other prisoners. His bandaged head rests on the lorry’s side. His gaunt face is covered by an untidy, grizzly beard, but Neela knows him right away. It is her father!

She calls his name and pushes through the crowd of bodies. The man opens his eyes and stares incredulously at her. He must be delirious. When she says it’s really her, he simply holds his daughter close and breathes the smell of her hair. Neela can feel his arms trembling. He asks how she got there.

Neela starts to tell her father all of the things that happened to her since he left home. She’s so excited that her words get tangled up in her mouth, and Father has to slow her down. But finally, she’d given her father the gist of the story. She says that she’ll have to tell him some other time about Bimala and her papa, Bishu, and the girls at the Drama Club, and how Samar dressed up as the monkey-dance man. And how scared Neela was waiting in the road for the truck. She hopes that he and Mother won’t be angry at her. Father shakes his head and gives her a warm hug. How can he possibly be angry? If it wasn’t for Neela, he would be deported now, and he would have to spend the rest of his life away from India and his family. Neela was a smart, brave girl to do what she did, and he’s sure Mother will understand.

Suddenly, the lorry comes to a stop. The canvas covering the back is lifted, and Biren climbs up. The freed prisoners crowd around him, and the younger men touch his feet to show respect. Father thanks Biren for saving their lives. Biren says there’s no need for thanks, because he’s happy to be able to do it. It’ll be a great blow to British pride—capturing the prisoners from under their noses.

Biren says the ship must have realized what happened, and they’ll have sounded an alarm. Everyone must get out of Calcutta right away. Biren’s team is going to drive it to one of their centers up north, and the freedom fighters will change the appearance of the vehicle so that not even its own mother would recognize it. Those who want to come and join them are welcome, but for the rest, it’s time to say goodbye.

Some of the younger men decide to go with Biren, but some of the others opt to return home or go back to the Congress Party. Biren says they’re near Howrah Station, so everyone will be able to catch a train or bus to wherever they wish to go. Biren has also brought clothes for everyone, so they can change out of the prison garb. They must separate from each other right away because the police will be searching for groups of men.

The men change hurriedly in the truck, and Neela climbs down and looks around. She recognizes the Howrah Bridge looming in the distance. If they can just cross it, they can get on a train for Shona Gram. Then, she sees her father climb out of the truck. He has a bad limp and walks very slowly. He grimaces in pain as he leans on one of his companions.

Father explains that a policeman hit his shin with a lathi during the march. He may have broken something. The pain is slightly better now, but it’s probably not healed right. Neela’s eyes filled with tears of despair. She knows he’ll never be able to walk in his condition. Biren beckons to Samar, and says that they can use help. Samar will go with them as far as their village, and then come back to their center in Calcutta to wait for his next assignment.

The driver revs the engine, and everybody shouts their goodbyes. Then, in a cloud of dust, the freedom fighters are gone.

 

Unexpected Obstacles

Slowly, unsteadily, the three of them make their way across the bridge. Father leans heavily on Samar, who takes most of the man’s weight, but once in a while, Samar stumbles and Father gasps as his injured leg hits the ground. Neela walks behind them, carrying her bundle and feeling useless. Samar whispers that they are almost there. They can see the main entrance of the station. Samar says he will set them down on a bench and go get their tickets to Shona Gram.

But as they near the station, Neela realizes something isn’t going right. There are tall metal gates covering the entrance to the station. Samar says that they’ve shut the gates and bolted them. The three look around wildly. The sidewalks are empty at this time of night, since all the vendors have gone home. Only a few beggars still huddle in their rags by the station wall.

Then, they see someone else. The night watchman. They can hear the stomp of his boots as he walks up and down banging his lathi on the cobbles. Samar says that the man hasn’t seen them. They must hurry to get under the cover of the wall’s darkness.

The three of them lower themselves onto the concrete pavement near one of the huddled groups of beggars, who watch them in suspicion. Samar explains to them that he’s taking his sick uncle back to his village home, and they grow friendlier. They tell Samar that for the past week, night trains have stopped because of the activities of the freedom fighters. The station is locked from midnight to six in the morning.

Samar is worried. That’s a long wait. Neela can’t see his expression in the dark, but she knows what he must be thinking. By that time in the morning, the authorities will know the prisoners have been freed, and a massive search would commence. They are handicapped by Father’s injury, so they cannot avoid the soldiers.

Father tugs it’s Samar’s kurta. He says that he can be left there with the beggars for a day or two. He’ll be safe enough. Neela should go home tomorrow, and Samar should go back to the center. Father will make his way to Shona Gram on his own in a couple of days.

Neela cries that that will never happen. Neela is not leaving him again. They may catch him, especially with the bandage on his head. Or even if no one is caught, he is ill, so he won’t be able to get on the train by himself. She drapes the shawl Bimala gave her protectively around her father.

Samar nods and says that Neela is right. They can’t separate after all that trouble. Samar says in the morning, he’ll go into the station to check out the situation.

They eat a few mouthfuls of the food Bimala packed. Father is appreciative of the fried eggplant. He says he hasn’t eaten so well since Usha’s wedding. Samar says he will pass on the compliment to Bimala, even though it’ll go straight to her head.

Neela is too exhausted to even laugh. The day’s tensions had worn her out, but she’s too wound up to sleep. She dozes fitfully, starting at the strange night noises all around her. When she does wake up, she’s surprised to see it’s morning. The vendors are already setting up their wares, and the passengers have started to arrive, and Samar is gone.

Father says Samar went into the station to try to get tickets. Neela can’t help but worry. Why didn’t he wake her? How long has he been gone? What if there are police inside? What if the police are coming to get Father and Neela right now?

And then, a hand falls on her shoulder, causing her to jump. Samar says that it’s time for them to leave. He got the tickets. They agree Neela and Father walk in separately from Samar, and meet him on platform four. There’s a train that will pass by Shona Gram on its way to Bardhaman. Samar says it will look more natural for the father and daughter to go someplace together. Samar wraps the shawl around Father carefully so the bandage doesn’t show, and together, they stagger toward platform four and on towards freedom.

Fortunately, the train isn’t crowded. They settle themselves in the last compartment, which is empty. Samar breathes a sigh of relief when the train starts to move. He explains there were a lot of policemen hanging around near the ticket counters, asking questions. They stopped him, too. Samar had already bought the tickets by then, so he just stammered and acted half-witted, and told them he’s going to visit his sick mother in Bardhaman. Luckily, they didn’t check how many tickets he had.

Neela is fascinated by Samar pretending to act with a stutter. He has a vacant, cross-eyed expression on his face, and it is so convincing. Neela asks if the freedom fighters taught him how to act like that. With a shake of his head, Samar chuckles and says it’s natural talent.

Neela glances at her father to see if he finds Samar funny, too, but he’s gazing somberly out the window at the rice fields speeding by. Father says there’s so much that has happened to him recently. It turned his life around. He is simply trying to figure out the new him and what he thinks. He explains when he got to Calcutta, he contacted the Bengal branch of the Congress Party, and said he wanted to join in the Quit India march. He met such fine people there and learned so much about the freedom struggle going on all over the country.

Father explains he met some of the people that took part in the Salt March with Gandhiji. They believe the British has no right to tax Indians for salt because it comes out of the Indian Ocean. So, Gandhiji organized a peaceful march to the ocean. Neela nods. She likes what she’s heard of this Gandhiji.

When Samar says that the British will never hand India back unless we force them, Father agrees. But Gandhiji believes civil disobedience and nonviolence is the best and strongest strategy against them. Not only will India have right on their side, but the whole world will see that they do, too. They’ll see the villainy of the British and they’ll shame them into setting India free. Gandhiji is a great leader, and he has dedicated his life to the people of India.

Samar interrupts, saying that Netaji Subhash Bose has also dedicated his whole life to the people of India. His way of fighting is with their own fire, killing their leaders until they all get the message to leave.

Neela sees the two are at odds-end, disagreeing back and forth. Neela looks at both her father’s face and Samar’s. It distresses her because she cares so much for them both. Personally, she thinks Gandhiji’s peaceful way is a better one, but she can see why Netaji’s way would appeal to many, especially to younger people who want independence right away. And his belief, to give one’s life for one’s motherland, is heroic and attractive. Neela is tired and confused. There’s so many conflicts in the world and so many choices to make. It’s difficult to know what’s right.

The train stops at a fairly large station and they look out the windows of the platform. They see people carrying baskets of vegetables, eggs, and fish. Father says they’re already at Shaluk Para. There’s a big market at Jal Gram on another rail line. The name fills Neela with guilty memories of the day before she ran away. She would have to tell Father about the nice lady who wanted her to get engaged to her son. Neela hopes Father will understand why she’s not ready for such a big step.

Samar mutters that something strange is going on. No one seems to be getting off their train. The men in khaki are pushing through the crowd. Could they be police? Neela and her father watch as he slips out the door. Father muses that he is brave and intelligent and unselfish. Neela’s heart leaps in pleasure to hear her father praise Samar.

Father turns to his daughter, and says that when they get home, he has plans about educating the villagers about what’s really going on in the country, and he wants her to help. They must all support the battle for independence, one way or another. Neela is surprised and pleased. She’s proud that her father considers her grown enough to help him with such an important job. She’ll do whatever he needs.

Just then, Samar bursts into the compartment, his face tense. He pants that they are constables. A whole company of them, and they are already on the train. They’re searching all the passengers and no one is allowed to leave.

The train starts on its way again. Its rocking motion hadn’t bothered Neela before, but now she feels nauseous. What will happen to them? Both Samar and Father are trying to figure out a plan. Neela tries to think of something to help them, too. Father says at the very least they must save Neela. She should go to another compartment right now. He noticed a compartment just for women on the other side of the toilet. Neela shakes her head. She’s not leaving them.

Samar looks up the wall toward a scarlet sign that reads “To Stop Train, Pull Chain.” He thinks about pulling the chain himself. The train would stop and maybe they can hurry down and hide in the fields. Father shakes his head. He won’t be able to do it with his leg. But Samar would be able to outrun the constables if he needed to. He should go ahead. Samar says he can’t abandon them.

Neela looks around desperately. What will happen when the constables search Father and find the wound on his head? And Samar, too, probably has a big scar from his earlier injury. Oh, to have worked so hard and be so close to home and freedom, only to have it snatched away like this. It’s not fair. She gives the bundle on her knee an angry shake. And then something rattles inside. It’s Bimala’s makeup box. Neela knows what to do.

When the head constable walks in the last compartment, he’s in a foul mood. He and his men have spent an hour searching the train, and have found no one except foolish peasants with smelly baskets of fish and equally smelly babies. The informant is a shifty-eyed man who’d shown up outside the police station that morning. He told them a bunch of terrorists were on the train. Was he wrong? Or had he done it on purpose? They can’t even trust traitors these days.

Looking in, the constable sees the compartment only holds three people. One of them is a lanky girl, Neela, in a ragged dirty frock. He dismisses her right away. Across from her sits a young man, Samar, who looks like he’s crazy in the head. He drools and points at things outside the window and talks to himself. Every once in a while he slaps himself in the face. That also doesn’t look like the kind of person they’re looking for. Next to the girl lay a man, covered in a shawl, shivering and moaning. Now that looks suspicious. Why would he be laying down, all covered up like that, unless he has something to hide?

The constable yells at one of his men to snatch the cover off the man. Neela stands up, bowing differentially. She thanks the inspector for coming. They need help. The constable smiles. He likes being called “inspector,” even though he’s not an inspector yet. Neela seems polite and respectful, so he asks her what the matter is.

Neela explains that she and her father got on three stations ago. She’s taking him to the hospital in Bardhaman. Maybe one of the constable’s men can be sent along with them to help. As he can see, she only has her cousin with her, and he’s weak in the brain.

The constable points at Neela’s father and asks what’s wrong with him. She says that four days ago, he started having a terrible fever, and then yesterday red boils broke out all over him. The constable takes a step back toward the door along with his men. She wrings her hands and says they’re full of pus and have started to burst. She also mentions that the pain is terrible, and he’s itching and scratching until blood comes. Neela raises a corner of the shawl to show the constables a hand covered in boils and crusted with pus. It looks disgusting.

One of the constables whispers that it’s the pox. The men back out of the door as fast as they can, holding kerchiefs over their noses and mouths. The head constable shouts that she is an idiot. Her father has smallpox. They’re probably all infected. Hopefully they haven’t infected the constables as well. He orders them off the train right away.

Jerkily, the train begins to slow down when a constable pulls the chain. Neela cries desperately that they’ll be left in the middle of nowhere with a sick man. The head constable spits on the ground, and says that that’s her problem. And then, the constables make their way as fast as they can down the corridor.

Neela, Father, and Samar sit in a field of mustard flowers, watching the train disappear. When it’s gone, Samar falls back on the flowers, sighing with relief. He says that he was worn out from worrying. He didn’t think they could pull it off. But Neela was great. Where did she learn to apply makeup like that?

Smiling, Neela uses a corner of the shawl to brush some of the makeup from Father’s face and hand, which is all she had had time to work on. Neela says she was scared that the constable would want to see Father’s whole body, or even his entire arm. They were very lucky.

With a glimmer in his eye, Father says that she was brave and quick-witted. That’s really what saved them. Neela beams, suddenly unable to wait to see her mother.

Samar asks them how far it is to their home, and Father answers that it’s only a mile or so. And there’s a shortcut, past the weavers’ huts. Samar says it’s better if he’s not seen by the villagers. Perhaps they can make it on their own. Father nods, and tells him that Neela can help him from there.

Father and Samar wish each other the best and tell each other to stay safe. Samar says goodbye to Neela. There’s so much that Neela wants to tell him, but a huge lump of shyness seems to block her throat. Finally, all she can manage is a thank you and she asks that he’ll come see her when he can. Samar responds that if he is alive, he will.

These simple words strike Neela like a blow. Neither of them know what danger lurks in Samar’s future. Will he live long enough to see a free India? Will he ever be able to come back to Shona Gram?

Samar pauses as though waiting for Neela to say something else. But when she doesn’t, he turns and starts walking along the rail lines. Neela’s furious with herself. Now she’ll never get a chance to tell him what she wanted to say—how he had been her truest friend and had comforted her in moments of fear, how he helped her grow so she was returning to the village a stronger person. And finally, how much she likes him.

And then, a thought comes to Neela. She begins singing the “Vande Mataram” song. In the distance, Samar stops walking. He turns and listens to the lilting, beautiful notes of the song. It seems to Neela that he heard what was under all of the words as well. When the song ends he raises his hand and shouts back a thank you.

Neela and Father watch Samar’s figure grow smaller and smaller before finally disappearing into the fields. Then Father puts his arm around his daughter, and says it’s time to go. The two of them make their way slowly homeward through the golden mustard fields. Neela says that until she went away, she didn’t realize how beautiful their village was. So many colors are all around them. The dark green of the mango leaves, the bright green of the banana trees, the silvery-blue ponds, and the rich reddish-brown mud. And the gold of the mustard flowers. Father nods; that’s what Shona Gram is named for.

Neela supports her father as they make their way in companionable silence. And then, Neela points ahead and tells her father to look. There is a clearing in the grove of bamboos ahead of them, and Neela can see in it, their house. And a woman standing, dressed in a torn, old sari, as though she doesn’t care what she looks like anymore. The woman is tethering Budhi to a tree.

Neela calls out to the woman that she says she’s brought Father back. The woman looks up, and Neela watches the woman’s thin face break into an incredulous smile and begins to run toward them. It is her mother. Budhi comes gamboling, too, mooing so loudly that it’s a wonder all the neighbors don’t run out to see what’s going on.

Neela breaks into her run herself, not stopping until she’s thrown herself into her mother’s arms. How much Neela had missed her. How many stories Neela has for her. And what will Mother think of the way her daughter has changed and grown? And the baoul? What will he think? Soon, Neela hopes she’ll see him so she can tell him of her adventures.

Neela is aware of her mother’s hands in her hair. She smells her mother’s skin, and feels Budhi butting her side patiently, as she tries to squeeze between mother and daughter. She senses the smile on her father’s face as he watches the whole scene at the edge of the bamboo grove. Neela is so happy to be home.

 

Then and Now: India

Discusses life in India in the late 1930s. Topics include:

  • India’s long struggle for freedom from the British was growing stronger
  • Bengal is in northeast India, where many Bengalis were rice farmers in small villages
  • Neela’s family was Hindu, the most common religion in India
  • Girls were married between ages eleven and fourteen, often to someone of the same caste in another village
  • Married women were expected to be quiet and polite, to serve her husband, and to obey his parents
  • Hindu weddings were lavish celebrations
    • A young girl, such as Neela, wearing a sari indicates that she is almost ready to be married, too
    • The jewelry Neela wore symbolized her family’s wealth, and people knew it would belong to her dowry
    • A girl without a good dowry couldn’t hope for a good marriage
  • The British ruled India for nearly 200 years
    • They brought schools, universities, railroads, and a comprehensive system of laws
    • They didn’t treat Indians as equals
  • When Indian people held demonstrations for their rights, British police and soliders responded with violence
  • Some were willing to fight and kill for India’s independence, but others, led by Mohandas Gandhi, adopted a radical new way of protesting through nonviolence
  • In 1930 alone, more than 60,000 peaceful protesters were jailed
    • When news of Britain’s actions traveled around the world, Britain was forced to give in to more of India’s demands
  • In 1947, India finally won its independence
  • Today, India is the world’s largest democracy
    • Many Indians still live in rural villages
    • Most girls still only receive a few years of schooling and are expected to marry a husband chosen by her parents
    • Poverty is widespread in India, although cities like Calcutta and New Dehli have modern industries and universities where women can become computer scientists, engineers, teachers, or doctors
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