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sinister. But it didn't work. He felt miserable. And Malati, with her green eyes and sarcasm - for it had to be sarcasm - wasn't helping.
     
     
The tonga was quite crowded: Varun was sitting with young Bhaskar in the front, next to the tonga-wallah; and back-to-back with them sat Lata and Malati - both dressed in salwaar-kameez - and Aparna in her ice-creamstained sweater and a frock. It was a sunny winter morning.
     
     
The white-turbaned old tonga-wallah enjoyed driving furiously through this part of town with its broad, relatively uncrowded streets - unlike the cramped madness of Old Brahmpur. He started talking to his horse, urging her on.
     
     
Malati now began to sing the words of the popular film song herself. She hadn't meant to discourage Varun. It waspleasant to think of shattered hearts on a cloudlesj
     
     
morning. j
     
     
Varun didn't join in. But after a while he took h|me id
     
     
his hands and said, turning around : I
     
     
'You have a - a wonderful voice. ' I
     
     
It was true. Malati loved music, and studied classical
     
     
singing under Ustad Majeed Khan, one of the finest singeri
     
     
in north India. She had even got Lata interested in Indian!
     
     
classical music during the time they had lived togetherm
     
     
the student hostel. As a result, Lata often found hersel»
     
     
humming some tune or other in one of her favourite raags. I
     
     
Malati did not disclaim Varun's compliment. •
     
     
'Do you think so?' she said, turning around to look»
     
     
deeply into his eyes. 'You are very sweet to say so.' I
     
     
Varun blushed to the depths of his soul and was speech-1
     
     
less for a few minutes. But as they passed the Brahmpur»
     
     
Race-course, he gripped the tonga-wallah's arm and cried: I
     
     
'Stop F •
     
     
'What's the matter ?' asked Lata. B
     
     
'Oh - nothing - nothing - if we're in a hurry, Jet's go •
     
     
on. Yes, let's go on.' •
     
     
'Of course we're not, Varun Bhai,' she said. 'We're only I going to the zoo. Let's stop if you want.' •
     
     
After they had got down, Varun, almost uncontrollably I excited, wandered to the white palings and stared through. I 'It's the only anti-clockwise race-course in India other F than Lucknow,' he breathed, almost to himself, awestruck. 'They say it's based on the Derby,' he added to
     
     
young Bhaskar, who happened to be standing next to him.
     
     
'But what's the difference?' asked Bhaskar. 'The distance is the same, isn't it, whether you run clockwise or anticlockwise ?'
     
     
Varun paid no attention to Bhaskar's question. He had started walking slowly, dreamily, by himself, anti-clockwise along the fence. He was almost pawing the earth. Lata caught up with him : 'Varun Bhai ?' she said.
     
     
'Er - yes ? Yes ?'
     
     
'About yesterday evening.'
     
     
\
     
     
'Yesterday evening ?' Varun dragged himself back to the two-legged world. 'What happened ?'
     
     
'Our sister got married.'
     
     
'Ah. Oh. Yes, yes, I know. Savita,' he added, hoping to imply alertness by specificity.
     
     
'Well,' said Lata, 'don't let yourself be bullied by Arun Bhai. Just don't.' She stopped smiling, and looked at him as a shadow crossed his face. 'I really hate it, Varun Bhai, I really hate seeing him bully you. I don't mean that you should cheek him or answer back or anything, just that you shouldn't let it hurt you the way that - well, that I can see it does.'
     
     
'No, no -' he said, uncertainly.
     
     
'Just because he's a few years older doesn't make him your father and teacher and sergeant-major all rolled into one.'
     
     
Varun nodded unhappily. He was too well aware that while he lived in his elder brother's house he was subject to his elder brother's will.
     
     
'Anyway, I think you should be more confident,' continued Lata. 'Arun Bhai tries to crush everyone around him like a steamroller, and it's up to us to remove our egos from his path. I have a hard enough time, and I'm not