Govinda wanted to go down to the servants’ quarters again. He feared for his mother when she disappeared like this. She was growing audacious and less concerned about what others thought. She was expressing herself more boldly. He stared towards an unlit constellation of clay lamps, then watched a girl run up and light them.

After the service there was a party in the Seths’ apartment. Popular Bollywood music played while men, women and children came and went like moths among the laughter, fireworks, whisky, drums and stars. All around in the lane and in the school, people celebrated. Amongst the throng Govinda spotted his father talking to a group of people. He went up to his father who ignored him as he talked busily to guests.

Men swayed past the watchful eyes of Krishna, carrying glasses of Black Dog and soda. Women sucked on mangoes and licked their lips, then left to wash their hands. Children ate popcorn, fairy floss and ice-cream. His father was busy attending to everyone. He served the men more Black Dog and soda, and rum with Thums Up.

A moth floated in from outside as the lights inside the house went out. ‘Load shedding!’ his father groaned. Everything became shadowy. A few minutes later, the sky was ablaze once again with red, yellow, blue and green fireworks.

As the night wore on, Govinda kept looking for his mother amongst the men who talked about trouble in the Punjab and the way Sikh militants could not simply dictate what they wanted in a country as diverse as India. He wandered through a group of women who exchanged gossip about their servants stealing from them. A few of the women stopped talking and asked him where his mother was but when he failed to answer they talked as though he was not there. They commented on the fact that Gitanjali had failed to appear at her own party. Late at night, his father tried to cover for her by saying she was sick and had to go and see a doctor. The firecrackers got louder outside. The crystal fountains sparked. Soon the generators would start up and the lights would come on again, making the lamps less bright. A clerk arrived at the door in the middle of the night, apologising that he had forgotten to deliver a letter marked important from Australia.

The Scribe

The Scribe