Shantaram полностью

She raised her left eyebrow in a high arch as she said it, challenging me to respond and meet her on her level, and with that gesture it was all right between us. I wasn’t resentful any more. I knew, I was certain somehow, that wanting my little house to be bigger or brighter or grander than it was had been in my mind, not hers. She wasn’t judging. She was only looking, seeing everything, even what I felt.

My neighbour’s twelve-year-old son, Satish, came into the hut, carrying his tiny, two-year-old cousin on his hip. He stood close to Karla, staring unselfconsciously. She stared back at him just as intently, and I was struck by how similar they were in that instant, the Indian boy and the European woman. Both had full-lipped, expressive mouths, and hair that was night-sky black; and although Karla’s eyes were sea-green and the boy’s were dark bronze, each pair wore the same grave expression full of interest and humour.

‘Satish, chai bono,’ I said to him. Make some tea.

He gave me a quick smile, and hurried out. Karla was the first foreign miss he’d ever seen in the slum, so far as I knew. He was excited to have the task of serving her. I knew he would talk about it to the other kids for weeks afterwards.

‘So, tell me, how did you find me? How did you even get in here?’ I asked her when we were alone.

‘Get in?’ she frowned. ‘It’s not illegal to visit you, is it?’

‘No,’ I laughed, ‘but it’s not common either. I don’t get many visitors here.’

‘Actually, it was easy. I just stepped off the street and asked people to take me to you.’

‘And they brought you here?’

‘Not exactly. They’re very protective of you, you know. They took me to your friend, Prabaker, first, and he brought me to you.’

‘Prabaker?’

‘Yes, Lin, you want me?’ Prabaker said, popping through the doorway from his eavesdropping post outside.

‘I thought you were going to drive your taxi,’ I muttered, adopting the stern expression that I knew amused him the most.

‘My cousin Shantu’s taxi,’ he said, grinning. ‘Was driving, yes, but now my other cousin, Prakash, he is driving, while I am taking it my two hours of lunch breaks. I was at Johnny Cigar, his house, when some people came there with Miss Karla. She wants to see you, and I came here. It is very good, yes?’

‘It’s good, Prabu,’ I sighed.

Satish returned, carrying a tray with three cups of hot, sweet tea. He handed them to us, and tore open a small packet containing four Parle Gluco biscuits, which he presented to us with a solemn sense of ceremony. I expected him to eat the fourth biscuit himself, but he placed it on his palm instead, marked it off into even sections with his grubby thumb nail, and then broke it into two pieces. Measuring the fragments against one another, he picked the one that was minutely larger and handed it to Karla. The other went to his baby cousin, who sat in the doorway of the hut and nibbled at the biscuit happily.

I was sitting on the straight-backed chair, and Satish came over to squat on the floor beside my feet. He rested his shoulder against my knee. I was big enough to know that the rare show of affection was a breakthrough with Satish. At the same time I was small enough to hope that Karla had noticed it, and was impressed by it.

We finished the tea, and Satish gathered the empty cups, leaving the hut without a word. At the door, he gave Karla a long-lashed, lingering smile as he took his cousin’s hand to lead her away.

‘He’s a nice kid,’ she remarked.

‘He is. My next-door neighbour’s son. You really sparked something in him today. He’s normally very shy. So, what brings you to my humble home, anyway?’

‘Oh, I just happened to be in the area,’ she said nonchalantly, looking at the gaps in my wall, where a dozen little faces stared in at us. The voices of other children could be heard, questioning Satish about her. Who is she? Is she Linbaba’s wife?

‘Passing by, huh? It couldn’t be, maybe, that you missed me, just a little bit?’

‘Hey, don’t push your luck,’ she mocked.

‘I can’t help it. It’s a genetic thing. I come from a long line of luck-pushers. Don’t take it personally.’

‘I take everything personally-that’s what being a person is all about. And I’ll take you to lunch, if you’re finished with your patients.’

‘Well, I have a lunch date, actually -’

‘Oh. Okay, then -’

‘No, no. You’re welcome to come, if you like. It’s kind of an open invitation. We’re having a celebration lunch today, right here. I’d be very happy if you’d… be our guest. I think you’ll like it. Tell her she’ll like it, Prabu.’

‘We will have it a very nice lunches!’ Prabaker said. ‘My good self, I have kept it a complete empty stomach for filling up to fat. So good is the food. You will enjoy so much, the people will think you are having a baby inside your dress.’

‘Okay’ she said slowly, and then looked at me. ‘He’s a persuasive guy, your Prabaker.’

‘You should meet his father,’ I replied, shaking my head in a resigned shrug.