Free The Sleeping Dictionary by Sujata Massey Page B

the right of teacher and used our darwan’s lathi to great effect as a pointer. Your mother took fright and brought you back to the other little girls who were making alpana designs on the veranda. But you were brave, and I believe you enjoyed playing my student, and I am pleased that you were willing to leave the comforts of your home for the rigors of school.
I’d like to say that I am as happy in England as I was upon arrival three years ago, but that is not the case. The laws I memorize form a droning sound in my mind, rather like the Vedas Brahmin boys are forced to learn. And to what end? Indian lawyers are a penny for a pound in Calcutta, and the thought of serving at the pleasure of a white-wigged English judge does not appeal. If only I could combine law with nationalism. To take risks in the name of India’s freedom would be my privilege. I have doubts about the likelihood of what Gandhiji says about the British granting us self-rule. For England has built its wealth on our backs, and if that wealth vanishes, how can they survive in this new century? What is your opinion of Gandhiji’s hope?
As ever, I am your devoted,
Pankaj
    The day the envelope came, Bidushi took it to open with me on the evening walk. She jumped up and down in excitement at the gift, a ruby pendant that hung from a long, delicate gold chain. Lockwood girls could wear only religious medals or school rings; and even though Bidushi kept her collar closed to the neck, there was still a chance of discovery. Still, she demanded that I secure the clasp behind her neck.
    “What is wrong, Didi?” Bidushi asked, as if sensing something was amiss.
    “Nothing’s wrong. Ruby looks very well on you.” I was thinking that the gift had been given because of the sweet words I had written; but it wasn’t jealousy I felt as much as foreboding, an undefinable anxiety that had settled in the bottom of my stomach like one of the bricks in the school wall.
    “Why are you frowning, then?”
    If she were truly my sister, I would have put a black mark on her face to prevent the evil eye. That was how strongly I felt that she needed to be protected from whatever misfortune lay ahead. But Icould not paint her with Hindu preventives in this place. So I said, “I only hope you won’t be caught.”
    “If I am, I’ll say wearing this is part of my religion.” Lovingly, she caressed the pendant. “And Pankaj is wrong in thinking my aunt will give any jewelry for my dowry.”
    “Don’t mind her not gifting you!” Privately, I thought Bidushi sometimes complained too much. “Your mother’s jewelry must be exquisite. Enjoy that when it comes to you.”
    “Oh, Auntie took it all as her own!” Bidushi’s laugh was brittle as a papadum wafer. “Anyway, I am pleased with this, but look at what he wrote, asking my opinion of Gandhiji. How shall I reply to him?”
    “Tell him what you think.”
    “I don’t know what to think! You have always given the ideas and sentences for me to write.”
    “Bidushi, try it for once.” As I spoke, I resolved not to write the entire reply letter. We could consult an expert together, and Bidushi would pen her own thoughts after learning something.
    The opportunity to ask Abbas-chacha arrived by chance. Miss Richmond became interested in the great poet Rabindranath Tagore’s writings, and she requested that I go into town to buy his latest Bengali publication and later translate it. I was delighted at my first trip to the town, to see a real bookstore and who knew what else. And the best part was that if I found the right book to bring back, Miss Richmond would teach me how to use her handsome typewriter for the translations.
    Miss Rachael didn’t like the plan, and when I asked her for a fraction of the stipend she’d been keeping for me since I’d started working, she refused. I was disappointed not to have a little spending money for myself, but I was glad at least to be going.
    The following Saturday afternoon,