‘Oh, it’s a friggin’
‘Hi, Lettie!’ I called to her. ‘Great view, eh? Oh, sorry. Forgot about the blindfold. Well, it
‘This is fuckin’ madness, Lin!’ she shouted at me. ‘Tell these bastards to let go of me!’
‘That wouldn’t be wise, Lettie,’ Vikram answered. ‘They’re hanging on to you so you don’t fall,
‘I understand, don’t you worry. I understand that you’re a dead man, Vikram, when I get down from here. You might as well throw me off the bloody roof now, I’m tellin’ ya! If you think I -’
Vikram untied the blindfold, and watched her as she looked around, taking in the perspective from the roof of the fast-moving train. Her mouth fell open, and her face slowly swelled into a wide smile.
‘Wow! It’s… Wow! It really
‘Look!’ Vikram commanded, turning to point along the roofs of the train carriages. There was something stretched across the tracks, much higher than the roofline of the train. It was strung between the pylon supports for the overhead electric wires. It was a huge banner, puffed like the sail of a ship in the steady breeze. There were words painted on it. As we neared the banner, the writing became clear enough to read. The words were painted in letters as tall as a man. They filled the whole width of the billowing sheet:
LETITIA I LOVE YOU
‘I was afraid you would stand up and hurt yourself,’ Vikram said. ‘That’s why those fellows were holding on to your arms.’
Suddenly, the musicians struck up the chiming, thudding strains of a popular love song. Their voices soared over the blood-stirring thump of the tablas and the wail of the flutes. Vikram and Lettie stared at one another, their eyes holding as the train pulled into a station, stopped, and pulled out again. Half way to the next station, we approached another banner. Vikram wrenched his eyes from hers, and looked ahead. She followed his gaze. More words were written across the taut white cloth:
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
We passed beneath the pennant and out into the soft afternoon light. Lettie was crying. They were both crying. Vikram threw himself forward and wrapped her in his arms. They kissed. I watched them for moment and then I turned away to face the musicians. They grinned at me, wagging their heads and laughing as they sang. I did a little victory dance for them as the train rocked and rumbled through the suburbs.
Millions of dreams were born there, around us, every day. Millions of dreams died there, and were born again. The humid air was thick with dreams, everywhere, in my Mumbai. My city was a steaming, sweltering hothouse garden of dreaming. And there, on that red-brown rusting metal roof, a new dream of love was born. And I thought of my family as we rushed through the humid dreaming air. And I thought about Karla. And I danced on that steel serpent as it slithered sinuous beside the scroll and swell of the endless, imperishable sea.
And although Vikram and Lettie disappeared for a week, after she accepted his proposal, a lightness and optimism that was like happiness circulated in the Leopold’s crowd. When he finally did return, that positive feeling greeted Vikram with real affection. Abdullah and I had just finished our training and we teased him, mercilessly, for his delirious, exhausted joy. Then, while Vikram blubbered about love, we ate in hungry, purposeful silence. Didier was jubilant, crowing over the triumph of his romantic scheme, and demanding modest tributes, in the form of stiff drinks, from everyone we knew.
I looked up from my plate of food to see a man, one of the street boys who scrounged for the black marketeers, gesturing to me in some anxiety. I left the table, and walked to the footpath to speak with him.
‘Lin! Big trouble for you,’ he said quickly, looking left and right nervously. ‘Three men. Africans. Big men. Very strong. They look for you. They want to kill you.’
‘Kill me?’
‘Yes. Sure. Better you go. Go fast from Bombay for a while!’
He ran off, and I lost sight of him in the crowd. Puzzled, but not worried, I returned to the table. I’d only eaten two mouthfuls when another man called me out to the street. It was Gemini George.
‘I think you’re in a spot of bother, old chum,’ he said. His tone was cheery, but his face was tense and afraid.
‘U-huh.’
‘Seems there’s three bull-necked African geezers-Nigerians, I think-and they mean to do you a bit of grievous bodily harm, if you know what I mean.’
‘Where are they?’
