The flight was not even the length of a whole movie, but I took in every detail to try to remember to tell Asya when we were reunited one day. I thought of all the times we imitated planes and dreamt of going places. The Mumbai airport was crowded, full of business travelers, families, and foreign tourists, and I followed Vishnu’s lead.
Ladki Rights arranged a driver for us after the flight. I watched the shanty huts around the airport disappear from my car window. As we departed from the city noise and traffic, my window landscape was replaced with dense trees, and I found myself dozing off from fatigue. When we got closer to the village, we passed the bus station on the outskirts of town, the last place Asya and I had been before leaving. It felt like so long ago. Back then my worries were about sneaking kisses in with Chotu, and now . . .
I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts of the men, and women, who had harmed me. I wanted to be here, in the place I had only known with my sister. Yet I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would Dadi and Dada reject me? At least I had Mausi.
I directed them towards the closest place we could bring the car to Nani’s compound. It was like time had stood still. The buckets lining the side of the dirt road remained the same, as if no one had used them all this time, even though I knew every family lined up to take turns with them every morning.
But something had changed. I felt it as we walked towards my nani’s home. When we got there, a young boy emerged from the home. He looked up at Vishnu and then ran back inside. I almost followed him before a woman poked her head out from behind the curtain.
“I am Amla. Is my nani here? Her name is Seva ben.”
My heart beat faster as I searched the woman’s eyes. I knew before she said a word.
“Beti, she passed a few months back. Our family was given the compound recently. I heard she was a very nice woman. I’m sorry, I don’t know much.”
My regret for leaving, for not coming sooner, flooded me. Tears had already formed in my eyes when I felt Vishnu’s hand upon my shoulder.
“Amla, I’m sorry.”
She was the last I had left of my mother.
We walked back towards the car in silence. I swallowed my sadness, my disappointment, and my regret for leaving. I should have come right after I was saved. Then I would have seen her, could maybe have even been with her in her final moments. I wondered whether she’d died alone, and who had found her.
“Asya, Amla? Beti?”
Hearing our names together brought me back to my childhood, when people often called us by both names, unable to distinguish between us.
I turned to see a familiar face. “Karan-ji,” I said. He was a kind neighbor; he often carried Nani’s water pail or vegetable basket inside. He lived with his wife and their disabled son, who Nani apparently sang to each evening when he was a baby to help calm his colic.
“Beti, oh, everyone was so worried. Where is your sister?”
I hesitated on what and how to say what had happened. I shoved the word brothel away as I looked down to avoid seeing what he would think.
“We were taken,” I said, my voice sounding thin to my own ears. I pointed at Vishnu. “This man helped me, but Asya is still there with the bad people.”
“Is he the police?” Karan-ji asked.
Vishnu explained about his organization, and how it helped girls. His Hindi was still awkward, so Uncle understood right away that Vishnu was an NRI.
Karan-ji looked Vishnu up and down a few times. He was skeptical, I could tell, but he told me about Nani. How she had a fall, and her hip was broken; then she got sick with a terrible cough before she passed. I shuddered at the thought of her suffering alone.
Karan-ji seemed to read my mind. “She was not alone, Amla; do not worry. She had us, and even your dadi and dada were so kind. Your nani, she left some things for you and your sister. Before her brother cleared the home and went back to his village, he left it with your dadi to give to you whenever you returned. She always said you both would come back.”
I couldn’t imagine their friendship, what with all their bickering before we had left.
“Where are Dadi and Dada?” I asked.
“Yes, they are in their home. You must see them. They will be happy you girls are safe.”
“Thank you, Karan-ji. We will go.” I didn’t have the heart to remind him that Asya was far from safe.
I told Vishnu we could walk. It would be nice to show him the village. Part of me also wanted to pass Chotu’s compound. After all this time, I wondered if he had gotten married.
The village ground felt familiar to the soles of my feet. The sights and sounds, they were my home. The temple’s bell and loud music from the chaiwala. I cringed, thinking about what we had done, leaving behind the familiarity of all we had known. We had been trying to escape marrying men we didn’t know, and ended up with strange men anyway.
“Did your sister and you fetch water like that?” Vishnu asked quietly, gesturing towards two young girls at the well.
The last time I had fetched water was when Mummy collapsed. I nodded and he was quiet. I wanted to say more, but the words stuck in my throat. My feet were stuck again, like that day. What would Dadi say? We approached our compound, though I told Vishnu our home probably had been sold as my grandparents had wanted to do before Asya and I left; I was unsure if Puppa ever came back. We had long assumed him dead, but he might not be.
“Are you ready?” Vishnu asked me with kindness in his voice as we arrived at Dadi and Dada’s home.
I could smell the oil tadka simmering for lunch. My stomach churned. I swallowed the hesitation. Now or never. “My dadi makes the best subzi; let’s go see what’s for lunch.”
Vishnu smiled as we headed onward, and I called from the open door.
We heard a wooden belan drop; she must have been rolling roti.
Dadi had aged, softer at her mouth yet with more wrinkles by her eyes. I ran to her, and she embraced me. “Beti, beti,” she sobbed. Even Dada was holding me.
When we released our embrace, I introduced them to Vishnu.
“He rescued me. Asya and I went to Mumbai for Mummy and we were taken.” I didn’t say where we were taken to. I saw the look in Dadi and Dada’s eyes, a mix of fear and relief. They took Vishnu’s hands and thanked him. Vishnu was humble.
“Amla is the brave one. That is how it really happened.”
Dadi asked, “Asya?” And I shook my head as she put her hands over her mouth.
Dada took my hands. “Oh, beti, we just made your favorite, mooli paratha. It is perfect you are here.”
For the first time since we had arrived, I had an appetite. I ate plate after plate of the spiced radishes in the layered bread, letting the ghee cover my fingers with each bite. I noticed Dada had not eaten. He was smiling at me. I was relieved they hadn’t asked about where I had been. Why we left. I was afraid that if I told them what the men did to me, I would be cast as unmarriageable, and for any girl in our village, that was the lowest of places to be.
I asked if they knew what had happened to Puppa.
Dadi and Dada glanced at each other. After a long silence, Dadi cleared her throat.
“Yes, beti.”
Dadi went on to explain his condition. A few weeks after Asya and I had left, he returned to the village. After learning that we ran away, he became mute. He wouldn’t talk.
Puppa was alive?
I stopped eating and looked outside. I could see our compound. They had not sold it. I stood and felt Vishnu behind me immediately. I turned and told him it was okay, but I needed to go see him.
He nodded. We walked across the village in silence. I felt Vishnu’s support as I opened the door to our quiet home.
It was dirty. There was dust everywhere, and some of the furniture was gone. I saw his back in a chair. It was this chair my sister and I would climb into as young girls to sit side by side.
“Puppa?”
His head lifted, and he turned to me. We walked towards each other, and he was sobbing as I let him hold me, let him stroke my face and kiss my forehead. As distant as I had felt, as angry as I once was, the love from my parent felt good. In the brothel, ideas about ways we could leave came and went. An earthquake would crumble the building, and we all would run; our old teachers would storm in and demand Asya and I be let back into our village’s school—anything that allowed me to escape into my imagination for even a minute. I closed my eyes and thought of the one time I had hoped my puppa would walk in to save us from the brothel. I had told Asya about it as she fixed up a bruise a customer had left on her face. She scoffed, saying Puppa was dead to her. The anger about Mummy, I still had that too. Could I forgive him now?
He looked behind me for Asya, and I shook my head. “We still have to find her.” I told him I wanted to introduce him to someone, and he looked confused.
I led him outside to Vishnu, who smiled and waved at my puppa.
“That is Vishnu. He works for an organization that helps girls who are kidnapped and sold. Guhan uncle sold us when we went to look for Mummy.” My jaw tightened. I didn’t realize how fast my heart would race when I told Puppa what had happened.
“Guhan? He did not return my phone calls.” His voice drifted. He was in disbelief. “I am so sorry, my beti. We will find her. We can ask Vishnu to go back . . .”
I heard Puppa’s promises. But as I listened to his plan, something inside of me hardened the joy my heart wanted to feel. My father would not come to find her? Shouldn’t he want to be the one to find his daughter? He said he loved us, but had he even looked for us? I was underwhelmed by his words; he disappointed me like always.
The sun was strong where we stood, and we naturally headed back to Dadi and Dada’s home.
As Dadi hugged him, her son, I saw the love of mother to child. This was like my mother I had lost, who we could not save. I suddenly missed my mother so deeply that tears filled my eyes.
Dadi was talking, saying how wonderful it was to hear her son’s voice. Now that I was back, she said, I could stay and take care of Puppa, and he would be himself again.
The room started to feel hot, and I felt myself shrinking, melting away from her words. Without warning, everything went dark.
•••
“She’s been through a lot. This might have been too much,” Vishnu was saying above me.
I was lying down on their mattress pad. Vishnu was there, and Dadi was holding a rag she must have had on my head.
When my eyes opened, Vishnu said, “Okay, slow and steady.” He spoke in English this time, and I smiled to hear him speak comfortably.
“You fainted, Amla. I think you need to rest a bit more,” he said in his awkward Hindi this time and got me to giggle.
He smiled and said, “What’s so funny?” which sent me into more laughter.
I saw Dadi watch us curiously from the corner of her eye before she told me to have a drink of water.
“I spoke to your family about everything, Amla. And I think I may just have some more of your dadi’s delicious food; then I can head back tomorrow. I will alert the driver if I can call and book an earlier flight. I’ll cancel your return leg, if you would like, so you can spend more time with your family.”
My stomach sank. Why did he say “I,” not “we”? Was he planning to leave me here?
“I come.” Even though he had spoken in Hindi, I answered in English.
I waited for him to tell me it would be better if I stayed here, with Puppa. I waited for him to tell me that I should wait for Asya here and be with my family. But he only nodded and said, “Okay.”
“Okay, tomorrow, let’s talk about it,” Puppa interrupted.
I listened as they all decided on sleeping arrangements. Vishnu would stay with Puppa. Dadi wanted to watch over me and be sure I was okay, so I would stay with her. Dada would sleep in the common room on the sofa.
As Vishnu went to the compound with Puppa, my stomach felt a familiar warmth, like when I would see Chotu in the village. Could it be?
I ignored it and went to help Dadi in the kitchen.
I dreamt of Asya all night. I kept hearing her whispering to me like when we were girls. In my dreams, we were running together in the dark night, but she kept disappearing, leaving me panting and running to find her.
Dadi covered me with a rag, saying I was sweating in my sleep.
•••
As we prepared breakfast the next morning, Dadi turned to watch me strain the ground assam leaves and ginger pieces out of the chai.
“You want to go with that man instead of staying here with your puppa.”
I looked up. She wasn’t asking but telling me, and I wasn’t sure how to answer, but it sounded right to my heart.
I couldn’t imagine being in the village without Asya and having to bear the stigma of coming from the brothel, plus taking care of my puppa, who I had not forgiven. The thought of staying had not even crossed my mind when we got here; it was to be just a visit.
“Yes, Dadi, I want to study and go back. I can always visit again. I know you had or have your own ideas about what I should do, but—”
“Then you must go.” She placed the chapati in the metal tin and didn’t turn around. I let her continue. “When you both left, before your nani passed away, we understood something together. I became close to your nani as we prayed for you girls every day together. We were the women of this family, and only we understood your desire to leave. I know you did not want to marry those men, but I did not know what else to do. I should have tried harder. I should have talked to you both. And your nani was right. I regret we didn’t let your mother go back to school. The money was always so tight, and then it was too late. When we lost you, I vowed to myself that if you ever came back, I would never hold you back again.”
Her voice was shaking with emotion as she spoke, and as I poured her the first cup of chai, I handed it to her and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Dadi,” I whispered. I might not be able to forgive Puppa, but at least I could release the anger I held for Dadi, especially since it had been my choice to leave with Asya. That was something.
Puppa and Vishnu joined us for breakfast. I noticed Vishnu watching me when I laughed at one of Dada’s jokes. I wasn’t sure, but for that brief moment, I felt a connection between us.
When we finished eating, I told them I wanted to go see my old school, and Vishnu asked if he could join me.
As we walked, I told him about Asya. I had been thinking about her all morning after my dream. I talked about her all the time, of course, but I realized he only knew about the Asya from the brothel who secretly wrote poems, not the Asya from the village. Not the true Asya. So I told him about her crush on our yoga teacher and how nervous she would get, always falling out of balance and crashing to the ground. He laughed as I imitated her in vrksasana. The ease with which I spoke to him started to feel like I had my own crush on him. How could I fall for him, though? How would that even work with the organization and him in America?
“What about you? Who was your crush?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I blushed at the thought of saying “You.”
“There was a boy. My friend Chotu. He helped Asya and me escape. I would like to see him if we have time after walking by the school. Can you wait for me?”
He looked at me for a moment and then smiled. “Sure, if your dadi can make more of that chai while I wait.”
“I think she would be pleased to make it for you,” I replied.
When we walked by Chotu’s compound, I didn’t see him working on his bike in front, like I had hoped. I noticed a small car, though, covered in marriage flowers. Vishnu saw my face change.
“Why don’t we stay another night?” he said. “The flights have not been confirmed yet, but there is a late-afternoon flight we can catch so we can just head out after breakfast and make it back before dark tomorrow if you’d like. It would be nice to spend the morning with your family before we go.”
This thoughtful understanding—this was what it was about Vishnu that I knew would capture my heart.