The death anniversary of Rumi's mother made a marked difference in her equation with Yohan. No one had ever done what Yohan did for her. By helping her to locate a nomadic group and extending a hand to distribute the things that Rumi bought, Yohan had made a place in Rumi's heart. Their bond strengthened slowly and steadily.
During breaks, when the cast and crew sat together to have their meals, Yohan joined them. He, invariably, sat next to Rumi at such gatherings and he would whisper jokes to her softly. They didn't care if others noticed their growing rapport. Rumi, on her part, suggested slight changes in the character and bearing of Mantra, which Yohan accepted without any objections. Sometimes, he would not be satisfied with her make-up or jewels or outfit. At such times, Rumi would feel the heat of his scrutiny, his nearness and his fleeting touch. He would adjust her neck piece or brush away the tendrils or fix the dupatta suitably. At such occasions, Rumi got the feeling that he enjoyed her nearness; at the same time, she felt his tenseness as well.
Days flew and nights crawled. The fading of Winter and the advent of Spring lent an air of crisp radiance. Yohan and Rumi welcomed each morning with delight; as the thought of seeing each other crept up on them with exhilaration. One day, while they were shooting, the area transformer broke down and the electricity went off. The back-up generator couldn't be turned on. While the assistants went in search of lineman, the cast decided to do some sight-seeing. Some stayed back citing weariness and others took off. Rumi stayed back to work on the script. The dialogues in the upcoming scenes were long, detailed and complex. By three in the afternoon, they were given the day off as the shoot was cancelled. Rumi fell asleep, and was woken up suddenly by the peal of the intercom. Struggling to remember where she was, she answered the call.
"Hello!"
"Rumi, Yohan here. Have you had lunch?"
"No, I fell asleep..."
"Sorry to have woken you up. Why don't you join me for lunch?"
"Ok! Where?"
"In my room. I have ordered a very special thali. I am sure you will love it."
Smiling, Rumi answered, "Be there in ten minutes."
After freshening up and changing clothes, Rumi went to Yohan's room. She was surprised that the room was similar to others. No special accommodation was given to Yohan. He used the same sized room as others.
When Rumi quizzed about it, Yohan shrugged, "I really don't care. As long as there is a bed and toilet, I am fine with anything."
"That was not the first impression I got about you. Then, you were behaving like a spoilt brat..." Rumi reminded him of their first meeting.
Yohan chuckled and raised his hands in apology, "Please, don't remind me of that episode. That was a terrible evening and all of us were sloshed."
He served the hot lentil and curry on her plate.
"I agree. But you gave me enough money to keep my mouth shut," Rumi murmured, tasting a spoon of the delicious lentil soup.
"Seriously, I don't even remember giving you the money. I just remember a guy hanging near the bushes. Who was he?"
"Oh, he is a friend; three of us stay in the apartment. One is Parth and the other is Ritika. I had called him as it got very late that night."
"I am sorry Rumi for that night. We gave you a terrible time...."
"Your friend even waved his gun at me..."
"I know. What do I say? We are a bunch of morons," Yohan answered, pouring buttermilk into a glass and handing it to her.
"But if you are really not like that, why do you guys behave like that? I mean, you can be nice too, isn't it?"
"I guess, we were brought up to believe that such behaviours are expected of us. Ours is a vain world, Rumi. We believe that it is fashionable to be arrogant. I know, it was ridiculous of us to behave like that but what do I say?" Yohan's sheepish smile softened her stance.
She smiled warmly. Her gaze fell on the manuscript, "Have you made the changes in the script?"
"No, I am hesitant to make any changes...It is so perfect. I wish I had told my grandmother that I was proud of her. But then, we learn our mistakes only after the person leaves us forever."
Yohan's regret reminded Rumi of her own life. She was quiet and contemplative. Yohan noticed her silence and asked, "What about your life Rumi? Don't you have any regrets?"
"Oh, I have plenty of regrets. I wish I could turn my life back and make a slew of wrongs into right..."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I don't want to bore you with my life story..."
"Of course, you won't be boring me Rumi. Please tell. I am curious. I know you weren't born in India. I saw that in your passport."
"Yes, I was born in a very poor family. My father was from Bangladesh and my mother was from India. They met while they were working in a factory in Kolkata. They fell in love and my father took my mother back to his country. They were married there because my mom had no one in India. She was an orphan and brought up in an orphanage. The first few years of their marriage was peaceful. They lived across the border of the two countries in a small town. The next year, torrential rains and subsequent flood ravaged their homes. My grandfather wanted to leave the village, cross the border and settle here. He, my two uncles and their families hired a boat to cross the river. While crossing the river, the boat capsized. They died by drowning in the swollen river. My father and mother had stayed back with my grandmother to look after her. The waters receded eventually but they had lost everything; my grandmother's other children, her husband, the house and the small farm. She was heart-broken and succumbed to illness. Only my mother and father were left in the family. A couple of years later, there were forewarnings of a similar flood. I was six years then. Fearing that the flood would once again destroy our lives, my parents decided to move back to India. My sister was two years old."
"Oh, you have a sister? I didn't know that...." Yohan intervened.
Rumi's smile was laced with sadness.
"I lost her."
"Lost? How?"
"So, my parents had saved enough money to find a house in a village across the border. They hired a boat. People still crossed the border with the help of agents. So, my father paid an agent to ferry us safely to this side. We had boarded the boat when heavy fighting broke between two rival gangs in the village. My father and others beseeched the boatman to sail faster to the other side. In the rush, the boatman lost control, the boat tilted. My father fell into the powerful currents. My mother shoved my sister into my arms and went after my father. She was a strong swimmer. But she couldn't find him. He had been taken away by the currents. My mother swam back to the boat, and with heavy heart, we continued to the border. There were others also. So, we couldn't return or stop the boat."
Rumi paused, unable to continue. Her memories triggering an avalanche of pain and anguish. Yohan waited, noting the distress on her face. He wanted to stop her from torturing herself by reliving her tragic childhood. He realized, however, that she had never spoken about it to anyone. Hence, he allowed her to recall the terrifying memories.
"Someone had alerted on the other side of the border that immigrants were entering illegally so when we saw that officials were checking documents, the boat man turned around and sped away. Most of the people had faked their documents to cross the border so if we had reached then, we would have been caught."
"What happened then?" Yohan asked, gathering that Rumi's troubles had far from ended.
She took a long sigh, "By speeding away stealthily, our boat had entered the choppy waters of the river. The boat swayed too much. My mother was clutching the bags tightly so I was holding my sister. When the boat lurched, I couldn't balance myself. My mother, realizing my difficulty, asked for the baby. She opened her arms to me. While I was handing her, my sister, in her excitement bounced out of my grip. She slipped and fell into the water."
Rumi closed her eyes, the tears scalding her cheeks. There was absolute silence. Yohan gasped in shock. With tears gleaming in his eyes, he took Rumi in his arms. She was sobbing, her shoulders hunched in sorrow. Yohan held her tightly, understanding the agony that Rumi had been going through.
It was as if there was no end to Rumi's tears. She kept crying; for the loss of her father, her sister, her childhood and the happiness that had vanished from her and mother's lives. She wept for all those years when guilt had racked her, for all those times when she had been traumatized by nightmares.
"What happened then Rumi? Get it out of your system. Otherwise, there will be no end to your pain."
"Once again, my mother jumped into the river. I was more scared about losing her too. Two other men jumped after her and they all searched. It was almost midnight. We rowed back to the border. My mother returned empty hand. By the time we landed on the banks, we were worn out and exhausted. We took refuge in the camp. It was where we saw my sister again. The man who had jumped after my mother had found her. He took her away and fled. We could never find her afterwards."
"Good lord Rumi, so she is still alive somewhere?"
"I think so. I keep searching for her. Someone in the camp told my mother later that a Roy family had adopted her."
"So how did you and your mother survive?"
"My mother worked in building sites and we lived in the refugee camp for some years. I went to camp school. Then mother started working in a house. We were provided roof there for a couple of years. The woman who employed my mother died. Her nephew who stayed with her allowed us to continue there. But my mother became ill. She couldn't recover. When she died, I was taken to a girls' home where I was ill-treated and abused. I ran away to Raven camp where we had first landed," Rumi explained in between sobs.
Yohan murmured, "Rumi, how tragic! You are so strong."
Rumi was grateful for Yohan's company. His words were comforting and non-judgemental. She had always feared that by spilling the truth of her childhood, people would judge and hate her for losing her sister. However, Yohan was not like that. He understood her guilt and remorse.
Rumi revealed, "I am still searching for my sister..."
"What was her name?"
"Rewa!"
*****************