A Tale Of Two Brothers

VII

Countries were falling to their knees.

Soldiers were dying. Nations were drenched in blood. The world was on fire. Some surrendered, some fist bumped the air. Some of them killed themselves, while the others came back shattered. Some, like Subhash Chandra Bose never returned.

Very few were honoured for their shameless victory of spilling blood.

Gandhi was no longer in prison. He attempted yet another charge for the British to Quit India, and they swiftly refused. There were growing tensions between the Hindu and Muslim Political Parties. The League was still demanding a new country, a broken part of land.

The world was slowly settling, things were becoming quiet, uncomfortably. Several predicted that the war was coming to a climax. And hence, India striked back while the iron was hot. The British were weaker and unresolved. There was already building pressure. Lord Wavell, the Viceroy of India called upon the Indian National Congress and Muslim League in Shimla to discuss the self-government of India. A month later in July, Great Britain organized their general elections which gave rise to their Labour Party.

Rumour had it, that they wanted to "hand India back to the Indians".

The unrest was being broadcasted in the Azad Hind Radio. Recently, Anita would be glued to it too, not alone - it was only with Adrith she'd listen to the news. The freedom of the entire nation was something she didn't give too much thought to. She was so much more preoccupied with her own freedom struggle.

She'd heard more about Rudra than Rudra had even known her. "He was like a shadow!" He exclaimed at her. "He'd follow me everywhere I'd go. He didn't like me going to school and leaving him alone. When he grew a little, he began fidgeting with my school equipments. Maa had to hold him to let me study in peace."

Anita could sense the happiness gleaming from Adrith's eyes, the natural smile that plastered itself on his face and lit it up whenever he mentioned his brother. She already liked Rudra, perhaps was even a little bit envious. Being a boy, she thought, he had an amazing elder brother, more like a father figure.

They were sitting on a boulder with Anita holding a flask of chai. Adrith had brought with him a packet of Glucose-D biscuits from the shopkeeper nearby. He was dipping it in the cup from the flask, with a light brown liquid that wafted of cardamom, ginger, cinnamon sticks and thick milk. The tea was strong, just like he liked it. It was early evening, the teatime he usually spent with his brother, now he did with Anita.

She was unknown to these things, the way that Adrith was drifting apart from his family. She had no clue that every moment spent with her, was another moment he was without them. She was usually just satisfied and happy to listen to Adrith tell his stories about his childhood and family. She had vomited out her own story to him long ago, but he had so much more to tell.

Unknowingly and unwillingly, she had crafted herself into the frame, while altogether cast the family out of it.

"Shit!" Adrith suddenly yelled. Concern grew on Anita's face and she looked at him in questioning, while he was getting into his kolhapuri slippers. He rearranged his muslin dhoti and said, "Maa-Baba are out. I have the house key on me and Rudra must've come home already!" He quickly picked up his new bicycle lying on the ground behind the boulder. Anita only ran behind him, quietly, and without asking or saying anything sat on the metal holder behind him on the bicycle, her legs dangling on the left side, her feet tight and toes tangled to make sure the slippers didn't fall.

Adrith dropped her by the main road of the city, a yard behind her house so no-one from her family could see her. She then walked home and Adrith sneaked a peck to her cheek and drifted off, leaving her flushed and red.