GULBARU SINGH’S HOUSE sat in the centre of a walled compound, three storeys high and painted a light, minty green. The pale yellow wall was five feet high, and inside it were thick hedges that grew up half a foot higher than the wall. The front of the house had two verandas that flanked a heavy wooden door. The gardens were mature, with tall plants and well-established evergreen bushes. To the left of the house were eight mango trees and a single peepal with a thick trunk and a high canopy; to the right stood a majestic old banyan tree, its gnarled trunk looking as though it had been twisted by the hand of a giant.
Around the back, the garden had two plots, divided by a well-worn dirt path. On one side was a vegetable patch and on the other, more bushes and plants. A single narrow gate in the back wall led to the dark alleyway beyond. It was at this gate that Gurdial stood patiently, waiting for Sohni. A single pale blue butterfly fluttered around his head, a rare sight during a Punjabi winter. Gurdial was wondering where it had come from when he saw Sohni coming down the garden path. He smiled and waved, his heart jumping madly inside his chest.
Sohni reached the wooden gate and threw back the bolt. The ancient rusty hinges squeaked, the gate opened and she stepped out into the tree-shrouded alleyway. The sun was high in the sky but the trees did their best to stop the light from penetrating. What little there was created a dappled effect on the dusty ground, as though the earth had caught yellow measles. Caper bushes grew along the edges of the path, their inward-curving spines like claws. The path led off into almost total darkness in one direction and out into the narrow street in the other. The young lovers chose the darkness.
‘I didn’t think you’d be able to come,’ Gurdial said to Sohni, taking her hand.
‘I was waiting for my stepmother to leave,’ she replied.
Gurdial grinned.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You didn’t call her a witch for a change,’ he replied.
‘She was throwing plates around earlier,’ Sohni told him. ‘Screaming at the walls as though they’d eventually answer her.’
‘Where is your father?’
Sohni shrugged. ‘At the shop. He is hardly ever at home, and when he is, all they do is fight.’
Gurdial pulled her to him; the heat from her body sent his senses wild. Her skin was as smooth as a pebble that had been washed in holy water and her light blue eyes were full of life. He leaned forward and kissed her, hoping that she wouldn’t pull away. She didn’t.
‘I can’t believe you are mine,’ Gurdial said after their kiss.
‘And why is that?’ asked Sohni as they made their way down the path, heading for the privacy of the trees and the fields of tall grasses beyond.
‘Because you are so beautiful, and I am so ordinary.’
Sohni let go of his hand and stroked his cheek. ‘You have such a warm smile,’ she told him. ‘And your eyes make me feel safe. No ordinary person could make me feel that way.’
They entered a clearing and found a place to sit on the grass. Sohni sat between Gurdial’s legs, facing away, his arms wrapped around her. Gurdial took in the smell of her hair, like vanilla and peaches, and closed his eyes, hoping to forget that he was a penniless orphan and Sohni the daughter of a rich man. Their love was secret because it needed to be. Sohni’s father would kill both of them if he found out, and Gurdial worried that it was only a matter of time before he did. Someone would see them together or Gulbaru Singh would get suspicious and follow her. And such thoughts stopped him from relaxing fully.
‘Are you still worried?’ Sohni asked, knowing that he was.
Gurdial nodded before resting his head on her shoulder.
‘Perhaps we should meet further away,’ she suggested.
The clearing, although private, was barely half a mile from her father’s house. But no one ever wandered down the dark alleyway and into the trees because the path didn’t lead anywhere. That was what made her feel safe.
‘There is a stream,’ replied Gurdial, lifting his head. ‘It’s in a copse about twenty minutes’ walk from the city, to the south past Nawan Kot.’
Sohni giggled. ‘Is it your usual hiding place for all the other girls,’ she teased.
‘No, no! There are no other girls.’
‘But you must have seen other beautiful girls in the city,’ continued Sohni.
Gurdial held her tighter. ‘I’ve never looked,’ he replied truthfully. ‘Until I saw your face I did not think of girls at all.’
‘So how do you know of this copse?’
‘I used to go and hide there,’ Gurdial said. ‘When I feel lonely or upset I go there to talk to my parents.’
Sohni shivered. ‘I’m sorry.’ She turned round so that she faced Gurdial. ‘It must be so hard for you.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s the same for you.’
‘How can it be? I still have my father, no matter how badly he treats me. But that’s because he wants a son, not a daughter.’
‘But you lost your mother,’ said Gurdial.
‘I never really knew her,’ Sohni told him. ‘All I have are the memories of other people and they aren’t the same. They don’t belong to me. Do you remember your parents?’
He nodded. ‘Not very much; just their smiles and some smells. And I can see flowers in a courtyard too. They are blue and pink; beautiful.’
Sohni took his face in her hands; tears were streaming down her cheeks.
‘Why are you crying?’ asked Gurdial.
‘Because of you,’ she said.
Gurdial felt a wave of love wash over him. His skin prickled with electricity.
‘What do you say when you speak to your parents?’ Sohni asked.
‘Just everyday things. I tell them how I’m feeling and what is going through my mind; things I don’t tell anyone else.’
‘Can you tell me those things?’ Sohni wiped away her tears.
Gurdial nodded. ‘I would like to.’
‘Then I want you to. You can tell me anything.’
Gurdial grinned, hoping to make Sohni smile. It worked. ‘Anything?’ he asked.
Sohni nodded.
‘What if I commit a crime or do something wicked?’
‘What if some other girl attempts to lure me away from you?’
‘Then I will lock you in a room.’
‘But what if I starve?’
Sohni shook her head. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll bring you bread and water.’
‘Like a pet?’ Gurdial asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A dog . . .’
Gurdial pulled a face.
‘A very handsome dog,’ added Sohni. ‘Very handsome.’
‘Do you think about the future?’ Gurdial asked, changing the subject.
Yes,’ she replied. ‘And it’s always with you. I don’t care about my father. I would give up anything to be with you.’
Gurdial swallowed hard. He wanted nothing more than to spend his life with Sohni too, but her father was no small barrier. Deep in his heart, he knew that their chances of being together were slim. But he decided to bury that thought.
‘So you’d have me even if we ended up living in the sewers?’ he joked.
Sohni looked him in the eye. ‘Even the sewers,’ she whispered, pulling him to her and kissing him.
Hidden in the tress that skirted the clearing, the woman smiled as she watched the young lovers before turning away to allow them privacy.
‘Let the young ones have their day,’ she said to herself. ‘You can no more deny the young their feelings than you can stop the sun from shining. It is nature’s way, and who are we to challenge nature?’
And then, as if to mock her own question, she vanished into the darkness.