“But then, these two goondas are not really guilty, are they?”
“Actually speaking, they are — of other crimes. They definitely deserve jail, madam. It’s like debit and credit, double-entry bookkeeping. In a way, Dirty Harry is also an accountant. The final balance is what’s important to him.”
She nodded, watching a flock of crows rooting in the congealed gutter across the street. They jostled and squabbled over tidbits. Then the truck arrived.
“You have children?” she asked Sergeant Kesar, while Nusswan’s men loaded the furniture.
“Oh yes,” he said proudly, pleased by her question. “Two daughters. One is five years, other is nine.”
“They go to school?”
“Oh yes. The older one is taking sitar lessons also, once a week after school. Very expensive, but I do overtime for her sake. Children are our only treasure, no?”
When the truck was ready, she climbed in beside the driver and thanked Sergeant Kesar again for his help. “My pleasure,” he said. “All the best, madam.”
“The same to you. I hope your ulcer operation goes well.”
The driver took a while to reverse the truck, for the way was narrow. Emerging through the gate, she saw Ibrahim behind the pillar, holding out his tin can to passersby.
As the truck passed, he tried to lift his hand to his fez in farewell. But the pain in his shoulder stopped him. He tugged at the collar of his sherwani instead, and waved.
Sorry I’m late,” said Nusswan, kissing Ruby’s cheek and then hugging his sister. “These never-ending meetings.” He rubbed his brow. “The truck brought everything safely?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Dina.
“I suppose your beggars and tailors and paying guest have all wished you Au Revoir.” He laughed at his joke.
“Stop it, Nusswan,” said Ruby. “Be nice to her, she has been through a lot.”
“I’m only teasing. I can’t tell you how happy I am that Dina is back.”
His voice grew softer, and filled with emotion. “For years and years I have prayed to God to bring you home. It hurt me so much, you choosing to live alone. In the end, only family will be of help — when the rest of the world turns its back on you.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat, and Dina was touched. She helped Ruby set the table, fetching the water jug and glasses. They were in their usual place in the sideboard. Nothing had changed here in these many years, thought Dina.
“No more humiliation with tailors or beggars,” said Nusswan. “No need for them, you don’t have to worry about money anymore. Just make yourself useful in the house — that’s all I ask.”
“Nusswan!” scolded Ruby. “Poor Dina always used to help me. One thing she is not is lazy.”
“I know, I know,” he chuckled. “Stubborn is what she is, not lazy.”
After dinner, they examined the household effects from the flat. Nusswan was appalled by it. “Where did you find this junk?”
She shrugged. A verbal answer was not always necessary. That was one useful thing she had learned from Maneck.
“Well, there is no room for it here. Look at that ugly little dining table. And that sofa must be from Bawa Adam’s time.” He promised to call a jaripuranawalla and dispose of it within a few days.
She did not argue with him. She did not plead for the memories which fleshed the ribs of her meagre belongings.
Nusswan wondered about the change in his sister. Dina was too docile, far too meek and quiet, not like her old self at all. It made him a little uneasy. Could she be pretending? Was it part of some plan which she would spring when he least expected it?
They transferred the contents of her chest of drawers into the wardrobe standing in her old room. “It’s been waiting for you,” confided Ruby. “Your father’s cupboard. I’m really happy you’ve come back.”
Dina smiled. She removed the cover from the mattress and stored it in the bottom of the wardrobe. In its place she draped her own quilt, folded, at the foot of the bed.
“That is beautiful!” said Ruby, spreading it out to admire. “Absolutely gorgeous! But what happened in that one corner, why the gap?”
“I ran out of cloth.”
“What a pity.” She thought for a moment. “You know, I have some lovely material, it will provide the perfect finishing touch. You can complete it with that.”
“Thank you.” But Dina had already decided there was nothing further to add.
At night in bed, she covered herself with the quilt and took to recounting the abundance of events in the tightly knit family of patches, the fragments that she had fashioned with needle, thread, and affection. If she stumbled along the way, the quilt nudged her forward. The streetlight through the open window was just bright enough to identify the motley of its making. Her bedtime story.
Once, after midnight, Nusswan and Ruby knocked on the door and barged in while she was halfway through the narrative. “Dina? Do you need something?”
“No.”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course I am.”
“We heard voices,” said Ruby. “We thought you were talking in your sleep, having a bad dream or something.”
Then Dina knew she had slipped from a silent recitation into reading aloud. “I was only saying my prayers. Sorry I disturbed you.”
“It’s all right,” said Nusswan. “But I couldn’t recognize the passage at all. You better take some lessons from Dustoor Daab-Chaab’s successor at the fire-temple.” They laughed at his joke and returned to bed.
He whispered to Ruby, “Remember how she was, after Rustom’s death? How she would call out his name almost every night?”
“Yes, but that was a long time ago. Why should she still be upset about that?”
“Maybe she never got over it.”
“Yes. Maybe you never recover from certain things.”
In her room, Dina folded up the quilt. The patchwork had transformed her silence into unbidden words; it had to be locked away now in the wardrobe. She was frightened of the strange magic it worked on her mind, frightened of where its terrain was leading her. She did not want to cross that border permanently.
Nusswan gave up teasing Dina because it was no fun if she did not retaliate. There were times when he sat alone in his room, recalling the headstrong, indomitable sister, and regretted her fading. Well, he sighed to himself, that was what life did to those who refused to learn its lessons: it beat them down and broke their spirit. But at least her days of endless toil were behind her. Now she would be cared for, provided for by her own family.
Not long afterwards, the servant who came in the mornings to sweep and swab and dust the furniture was dismissed. “Bloody woman wanted more money,” Nusswan offered by way of explanation. “Saying there was an extra person in the house, creating more work for her broom and mop. The excuses these rascals come up with.”
Dina took the hint and assumed the chores. She absorbed everything like a capacious sponge. During her private moments she wrung herself out and then was ready to blot up more.
Ruby was gone most of the day now. But before leaving, she always inquired if she could help. Dina encouraged her to run along, preferring to be alone.
“It’s thanks to Dina that I am at last able to use my Willingdon Club membership,” she told Nusswan in the evening. “Previously the fees were all going to waste.”
“Dina is one in a million,” he agreed. “I have always said that. We had many fights and arguments, right, Dina? Especially about marriage. But I’ve always admired your strength and determination. I’11 never forget how bravely you behaved when poor Rustom passed away on your third anniversary.”
“Nusswan! Do you have to remind us at dinner and upset poor Dina?”
“Sorry, very sorry.” He obediently changed the topic, to the Emergency. “Problem is, the excitement has gone out of it. The initial fear which disciplined people, made them punctual and hardworking — that fear is gone. Government should do something to give a boost to the programme.”