A city had woken up from its century-long slumber. A frozen heart melted in Pulok’s embrace. It extinguished the volcano within Lailin’s heart. In front of the happy and startled eyes of her own children, she broke down in her father’s embrace.

Ahlin walked up to Pulok and stood silently. Her heart was in turmoil. At the same time she was battling a tremendous hesitation.

Could she ask about Ananta? Who had shouted ‘Chow Mao murdabad’ and spat looking at them?

Even after so many years of enforced exile, her love for Ananta remained alive and pure. How could she tell anybody she did not marry because of an anti-Chinese Indian boy?

‘Ahlin ache. Arunabh Bora wants to speak to you,’ Babu said.

Arunabh was standing at a distance. Looking at the people surrounding Pulok, he was trying to find someone his very own, whom he had never seen. He was carried away in endless excitement.

After Babu introduced him to Ahlin, he recomposed himself with quite an effort and asked in a soft voice, ‘I met a lot of people in Makum. Do you want to ask me about anyone?’

She looked at Arunabh for a while and said slowly, ‘There was a boy called Ananta Baruah in Makum –’

Arunabh looked at Ahlin’s tired and wrinkled face, battered by age, sorrow and loneliness, and said, ‘Ananta Baruah does not stay in Makum now. He taught at Cotton College. He had settled in Guwahati. He told me about you. Here, he asked me to give you this letter.’

With trembling hands, Ahlin took the letter.

Ahlin,

War is like a dust storm. It makes the surroundings blurry. Nothing can be seen. Nothing can be understood. It was too late when I realized this. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Ahlin …

Meanwhile, her friends had stepped ashore to happiness.

Mei Fung came running. Chun Fu Thien brought Siu, pushing her in a wheelchair. Both her kidneys had failed. Siu smiled broadly. Her toothless face brightened with happiness. Ameng Tham, who was a professor at the agricultural university in Beijing, came forward and shook hands with Pulok.

‘I am Ameng Tham. I am Mei Lin’s friend. We were together at the Deoli camp.’

Lao Thien Lee came with his wife. They were both smiling.

‘Ho Wang and his wife have also come. Look.’

Ho Wang approached with unsteady steps. He had grown very old.

‘I never thought I would see you again, Pulok. I live in Guangzhou now. I come for the celebrations every year.’

‘He is a big man now, the owner of a restaurant.’

Tung Chin’s hand had started sweating in Pulok’s palms. He had come from the old age home and had almost lost his sanity and stopped talking. After long years of silence, he suddenly seemed to have found his voice.