Om Shanti, Babe Read online

  The next few minutes were a kind of raging blur. I remember tearing the pages out of Priyanka’s stupid sketch-book and throwing them around like confetti. Then there was Priyanka shouting, ‘Stop it, Cassia!’ and Lula telling me to calm down, and then stomach-ache-sick-making crying until Saachi shut me in her office and put the phone in my hand. In the background I could hear Priyanka’s angry voice and Lula saying, ‘I’m so sorry’ over and over.

  It took a few rings before Dad picked up. Then I heard his deep voice mumbling down the phone and I almost started bawling again.

  ‘Hi, Dad.’

  ‘Hello, kiddo, what’s up?’

  ‘How do you know something’s up?’

  ‘Dad radar. Is there trouble in paradise?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Hot-chocolate-with-marshmallows trouble, or Dad-get-your-passport trouble?’

  ‘It’s an even worse kind, Dad.’

  ‘Deep breaths, Cass, and tell me all about it.’

  So I did. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I told him about Lula and Call-me-V and their embarrassing secret romance and how I’d found the Indian wedding pictures in the sketch-book.

  I told him how left out of everything I felt, like everything was being organised in secret. How scared I was about life here being so different from my life in London. How I missed watching TV and eating heat-and-eat-food. How lonely it made me feel when I didn’t understand what people were saying and how stupid I felt when I didn’t know how stuff worked – I couldn’t even shop properly!

  I told him about the scabby dog I’d seen and the lady without proper fingers, how no one was allowed to wear shorts or eat ice-cream, how the train doors were really, really dangerous and the way some people had big houses and laptops and some people washed their clothes in the river.

  Dad laughed. ‘Rich people live differently to poor people all over the world, Cass. Your mum loves you, Cass. She didn’t do any of this to hurt you.’

  ‘Did you know already, too?’

  ‘Yes, kiddo.’

  ‘But why didn’t anyone tell me, Dad?’

  ‘Because you were so unhappy at school, sweetie, and your mum thought it was best if you met everyone and got to know them first, with no pressure.’

  ‘But Call-me-V isn’t like you, Dad.’

  ‘You mean Vikram? I hope not, for your poor mum’s sake, sweetie!’

  ‘I don’t mean the gay thing. But I can’t call him Dad instead of you.’

  ‘You don’t have to. Just call him Vikram. He is a good man, Cass, and he really loves your mum.’

  ‘Dad! Did you get him checked out or something?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I can’t have my precious girls getting mixed up with a creepster! Was it a nice dress, the one Priyanka designed for you?’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose... actually, Dad, it was really pretty. She must hate me now.’

  ‘Probably not. Go and say your sorries, Cass. It will be OK, you know, in the end.’

  He sounded so sure and I really wanted to believe him. But I’d made a total idiot of myself and Priyanka was really angry.

  ‘Everything will feel better soon, Cass, I promise. Now, it’s still stupid o’clock here and I need my beauty sleep.’

  ‘OK, bye Dad, I love you.’

  ‘Love you back, kiddo.’

  I held the phone close to my ear until the line clicked out. Talking to Dad made me feel a bit better. I wanted to believe him about everything being OK, but I wasn’t sure.

  I had stopped crying, but I wasn’t ready to face anyone in the house yet. I sneaked out on to the terrace and ran along the beach. My chest hurt from shouting and my face was covered in dried snot and salty tears.

  I dunked my head in the warm water and tried to wash away all the lonely, angry sadness that filled my head. Maybe I should just go home. Catch a plane back to London and stay with Dad for a bit, maybe for ever. Lula could stay here with Call-me-V and Priyanka could be her replacement daughter. She’d probably do a better job of it than me.

  I’d walked away from the sea now, and ended up on the edge of the village by a children’s play park. Small kids scooted around me on their way to the swings. I was just sitting, slumped on the slide, staring into space when I heard a familiar voice beside me.

  ‘Are you in distress again, Cassia, girl from London?’

  I was half expecting it to be a trauma-related hallucination, but when I opened my eyes Dev was smiling down in full 3D. My heart sort of flip-flopped and I found myself grinning like the little kids twirling on the roundabout.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I live here!’

  ‘Oh, Dev. I wish you could drag me out of trouble this time.’

  ‘Perhaps another cup of chai?’

  ‘You sound like my mum. She believes warm beverages have magical properties!’

  ‘You should listen to your amma. They are usually right about such things.’

  ‘You haven’t met mine! Would you like to go for a walk?’

  ‘First, I must check my sister is at practice.’

  ‘What’s she practising?’

  ‘Come with me and you can see, London girl.’

  We walked through the back streets of the village. The houses here were very different to Saachi’s. We passed people sitting outside, preparing food. They were waving flies away from the dishes and keeping dust from scudding up into the pans. It was weird seeing people cooking on the roadside, but then I thought it wasn’t really so different from a BBQ in the back garden – which Lula really loves even though we always end up with burgers garnished with bits of grass and flies floating in the squash. I wondered if this was just a short-cut or if Dev lived here.

  We came to an open square by a school. Set up in the middle was a dusty netball court. Close up, I could see that faded lines marked out a rather uneven playing surface. The hoops were cut from old metal drums, and neatly plaited strips of multi-coloured plastic made the nets.

  A game was going on and the two teams of girls were in full match voice. I couldn’t understand what they were saying but it sounded pretty fierce.

  A girl in a blue bib, with GS stitched on it, looked up as we arrived and waved cheerily at Dev. Seeing me, she nudged some of her team mates and the game slowly came to a stop. The girl came over to us and then she and Dev started waggling their fingers at each other. It was like watching the Kathakali dancers again, and I realised they must be doing sign language.

  ‘Cassia, I would like you to meet my little sister, Nandita. She is the team captain.’

  ‘Hi, I play netball at school, too,’ I said.

  She looked questioningly at Dev. He signed something to her and she smiled.

  ‘She is saying you are very tall, but are you any good at shooting?’

  ‘I used to play a mean Goal Attack...’

  Nandita smiled and led me on to the court. She sent one of the girls off and handed me a blue bib. Then she pointed to our goal end and the game started again. It took me a while to get warmed up, and until I’d been barged a few times I was ridiculously polite. But, after a few pointy elbows had hit home, I got some good passes across the circle to Nandita and even had a couple of shots at goal myself.

  Our team was already ahead, but when I dropped a ball cleanly through the hoop from the edge of the circle I got big high-fives off the rest of the team. Through it all, Nandita was totally focused on the game and the whole team watched her for direction. She reminded me of Rachel at rehearsals, getting everyone working, but making the hard work feel like fun.

  After half an hour, I was completely exhausted and dripping with sweat, but I hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time. I hadn’t been with a big group of laughing girls for ages. The last time I saw the dance group, no one had been laughing.

  The girl on the sidelines blew a whistle and the game stopped. Everyone piled off the court to get drinks out of their bags.

  Dev handed me a bottle of water, and laughed at something his sister
signed. ‘Nandita is saying you can stay on the team, if you like.’

  ‘That would be so great!’

  ‘It is a pity the court will not be here for very long,’ said Dev, frowning.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This space is to be a car park for the new hotel.’

  ‘What will Nandita’s team do then?’

  ‘We do not know.’

  I watched Nandita packing up the netball kit. The other girls were starting to walk home now. They strolled away, chatting, arms linked together. I watched them go, wishing they were my friends and we were all going off together for pizza and a Coke somewhere.

  ‘Has your sister always been deaf?’

  ‘No. When she was little, there was a tidal wave where we lived and it washed away our house. Nandi was in the water for a long long time and afterwards she could not hear any more.’

  ‘Do you mean the Tsunami?’ I remembered Lula crying at the pictures on TV, trees and cars floating away into the sea.

  ‘Sport is not just a timepass thing, it is very important to her.’ He was bouncing the ball hard on the ground as he spoke. It made a hard, slapping sound on his skin as he caught it.

  ‘I have to go now, Dev, but I know someone who is trying to stop the development. Maybe she can help?’

  ‘That is kind, Cassia, but rich people usually get what they want.’

  I remembered what Saachi said about how the rich treat the poor and how it made her want to be a lawyer. ‘You can trust Saachi!’ I said.

  Dev showed me how to say ‘great game’ in sign and I waved goodbye to Nandita.

  ‘Goodbye, Dev, I’ve had a brilliant time.’

  ‘What were you feeling sad about when I saw you at the park, Cassia?’

  I thought about Lula and Call-me-V, the way they looked at each other and what Dad had said about letting Lula be happy. And I thought about the big wave that had washed away Nandita’s hearing, and the big hotel that would take away her game.

  ‘Nothing, really. Well, nothing as important as this, anyway.’

  ‘I am happy then. I did not like to see you looking so lost, London girl.’ He stood and watched me as I turned to go.

  I could still feel his eyes looking into mine, wide and brown, as I reached the house. I felt connected to something, something big and important, something that mattered. I didn’t know what it was yet, but right now I thought I knew how Saachi felt.

  Priyanka and I hadn’t spoken to each other since I tore up her sketch-book. Saachi and Lula tried to get us to make friends, but for ages Priya wouldn’t even look at me. I knew she was upset about her pictures, but it didn’t feel like it was totally my fault, not really.

  In the end it was Granny-ji who got us all sorted out. She arrived one morning and announced, ‘This is a thoroughly bad show and it cannot be going on any longer!’

  When Saachi asked her what she had in mind she said, ‘I am leaving it in the hands of the Gods.’ Then Saachi said something about tea and yams and everyone else went, ‘Aaah!’

  It turned out the tea and yam thing was an ancient religious festival called a Theyyam that was held in the area every year. Saachi explained that during the ceremony different Gods and Goddesses, called Theyyams, entered the bodies of ordinary people.

  The honour of being a Theyyam was passed down through families. Once they had put on the make-up and the costume, they sort of became the God or Goddess and you could ask them for help with problems in your life. Each Theyyam had a different main deity and some of them were super-powerful and a bit mean, so you had to be careful what you asked for.

  On the way to the festival, I wondered which of my problems I should get the Goddess to help with. I had plenty to choose from, including how I was going to survive a day out with Princess Priya. We didn’t say a word to each other in the car.

  When Saachi drove away leaving me, Priya and Granny-ji standing silently at the side of the road, I realised it was going to be a very long day.

  The festival had been going on since early that morning and now the food tent was dishing out bowls of steaming rice and vegetables to a hungry crowd. We took a plateful to Granny-ji, who was parked in a folding chair under a tree, and rejoined the end of the queue.

  Priya handed me a cup of cool milky liquid. I must have looked a bit dubious because she said, ‘Try it, Cassia. It is called curd-water and it is very good for keeping you hydrated.’

  Was she talking to me again?

  I took a big gulp of the sour salty drink, and whatever else Priya said was drowned out by my gagging noises. Obviously she was still working the hilarious practical jokes. I wished I’d stayed with Granny-ji, dozing under the trees.

  By the time we reached the front of the dinner queue, my stomach was gurgling loudly. The days at Saachi’s house had really given me a taste for Indian food, and as soon as we sat down I started shovelling spicy rice into my mouth with my fingers.

  ‘I was going to say we have to hurry, Cassia, but I can see that is not necessary.’ Priya’s sarky tone made me feel like throwing my lunch at her.

  She picked up our plates and threw them into the rubbish bin. I hoped the Theyyam would ignore whatever stupid stuff she wanted, but I still didn’t know what I was going to ask for. Getting Lula away from Call-me-V and back to London was high on the list, and there was the hotel development too. For some reason, I was getting really bothered about that, bothered enough to push it up to the top of the list, maybe.

  But what about me? If I could have just one chance to have something, then what should it be? And anyway, how would an Indian Goddess understand what a London girl wanted?

  I tried to pretend Priyanka wasn’t there while I watched one man prepare in a shady spot under the trees. He lay down on blankets on the ground while another man got busy with his make-up. This was a really important part of the ritual and the people watching stood by, respectful and quiet. Granny-ji had told me that this Theyyam was the Tiger Goddess, Puliyoor Kali, who had been born to the gods Lord Shiva and Parvathy when they’d gone walk-about in the forest.

  Using a fine stick and pots of brightly coloured paste, a make-up man drew a swirly design which covered the performer ’s face and upper body. The background was orangey-gold, with thin lines and geometric shapes filled in with a glowing red colour. A thick circle of black outlined his eyes.

  Once the make-up was finished, the Theyyam was helped into a costume of silver jewellery, and an amazing red-and-gold hooped skirt. Polished twists of silver, fixed behind his teeth, curled out of the sides of his mouth like tusks. Finally, a seriously blingo headdress was lifted on to his shoulders. Then the Theyyam picked up a small hand-mirror and stared intently into it.

  Granny-ji had explained that when he opened his eyes wide, he would see the face of the Goddess staring back from the mirror so this was the moment he transformed and had the power to grant wishes and solve problems.

  Even though I’d watched it all happen, it was more than someone putting on a costume, and I found I couldn’t just stare at him like he was an actor or a dancer any more. He’d gone from an ordinary man to a Goddess.

  The drumming signalled the Theyyam’s arrival in the temple square and we scrambled to get a good place at the wall. Lots of the festival-goers seemed to have questions and problems. They came into the temple with offerings of money and the Goddess, surrounded by musicians and helpers, made slow, but dramatic, progress around the square. Everyone was a bit pushy, but we held on to our places.

  The Goddess was getting closer and I still hadn’t decided what to ask for. Possibilities flew through my mind, but nothing would stick in my head. I had seconds to decide. Granny-ji said you had to be careful what you wished for because it could really happen, but I didn’t even know what I wanted!

  The musicians were getting closer to where we were standing and I started to feel panicky. What if something really random and crazy came into my head as the Goddess passed, and it came true? Just thinking this
cranked up my panic and my mind went into super-crazy mode. I had to get a grip.

  I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to focus on what really mattered to me. What made me feel happy? Then I realised that what I really wanted was to have everything back the way it was before. I wanted to go back to when I was a girl who hung out in Camden Market, went to school and had a best friend who didn’t hate her. Tears were starting to bubble up in my eyes. I tried hard to stop them before anyone saw.

  I rubbed my eyes hard with my sleeve. Then I realised the Theyyam was standing right in front of me, staring unblinking into my face. I had the weirdest feeling that the Goddess could see right into my soul and that she knew what I wanted.

  I started to feel really hot and dizzy. My mouth was dry and I realised I could hardly speak. I swallowed a couple of times and managed to get out the words, ‘I just want a friend.’

  Everything got a bit weird and slo-mo then. I felt my legs go to jelly and I closed my eyes.

  ‘Cassia!’ Priyanka had hold of my arm and she was pulling me away from the temple wall. ‘You looked really strange. People were staring at you.’

  ‘Leave me alone, I’m fine! I just need a drink or something.’

  Priyanka left me standing in the shade and fetched another cup of curd-water.

  ‘Really? This is what you think I need?’ I held my nose and swallowed the horrible drink. The taste hadn’t changed but after a few mouthfuls it did make me feel a little better.

  The Tiger Goddess had passed the spot where we’d been standing and the crowd had closed the gap, but I could still feel her eyes burning into my heart. I wondered what she had seen there – probably nothing very interesting. Why would she bother with my problems anyway?

  After my moment at the temple wall, Priya said I should go and sit with Granny-ji for a bit and cool down. We still weren’t talking much and I guessed she only wanted to make sure I didn’t embarrass her again.

  We had just wandered past a stand covered with strings of woven flowers and leaves when Priyanka grabbed my arm like a maniac. The bruises from my dramatic train rescue had only just stopped hurting and her nails dug into my wrists.