The In-Between World of Vikram Lall by M. G. Vassanji Read Free Book Online

circlets of steel wire round her calves, and apparently nothing under her robe. She looked shy. Meeting her eye, Juma Molabux made his decision, based upon his soul-searching of the previous, sleepless night. He was lonely, he had no family in the country and not much status, and he badly wanted a woman. Cohabiting with, or even marrying, an African woman was not entirely unheard of among Indians. And nothing in his upbringing forbade marrying someone from another community, or race, provided—
    I will marry her, but I must make her a Muslim.

    This would grant him even a place in heaven, he had concluded the previous night.
    You must pay me a cow, the prospective father-in-law said, already with more authority.
    I don’t have a cow, Juma countered, looking at the girl, his blood now surging with desire. I don’t have that much money, I am a worker. But when I have earned enough I will pay you.
    Done, Jerom said, and crushed Juma’s hand inside his.
    Was she truly beautiful? Mother asked Dada, who had opened up finally about his friend’s story one cozy family evening.
    Dadaji gave a thin smile but said not a word.
    Papa spoke up, oblivious to his mother’s presence: Bauji, tusi vi kadii tempt hoye hoge, na…all those tall, lithesome Masai girls—
    Dada’s ears turned red. Deepa looked at me, my eyes searched Mother’s for some reason that I did not understand.
    Biji was not any less beautiful, Mother put in, referring to Dadi.
    True, true, said Papa, I was only pulling the old man’s leg!
    The marriage terms agreed on, Juma Molabux went to Nakuru and fetched his friend and fellow Peshawaree, my grandfather, to act as his escort, and the two of them drove a bullock cart from Kijabe to the Masai manyatta down on the plains beside Mount Longonot for the marriage ceremony. They stayed with the Masai for two days and took away the new bride. Her groom had brought her a shalwar-kameez and dupatta, which she wore shyly but proudly. She wore leather chappals. And she did not have several discs of many-coloured beads round her neck, but rather a plain gold chain and pendant, a gift from my dada and dadi. There was no sheep’s fat on her hair. Her people had laughed when they saw her thus, bedecked as a stranger, sitting on the cart, but they had also cheered. And they told the groom and his escort to sing, as they took her away, and the two men sang happy verses fromthe Punjabi story of Heer and Ranjha. Juma Molabux took his wife to live in Nakuru, where they could rely on the support of their friends, my dada and dadi.
    What was the marriage ceremony like? Papa asked.
    Dada said, The medicine man sprinkled the couple with water, they had to wear leaves and walk around, and then they went to spend the night in a hut.
    Wah, said Papa with a sigh.
    You sound regretful you didn’t marry a Masai, Mother reprimanded.
    He put his arm around her, gave her a squeeze. You are my Masai woman, na.
    One of those heartwarming moments between them, when Mahesh Uncle was not around.
    But she speaks Punjabi! Deepa said.
    Better than me, said Papa.
    Ha sahi achi to bolti hai, Dadi said.
    Dadi explained how, in Nakuru, she had taught Punjabi ways to the Masai girl.

    My young visitor stays up late sometimes, turned on to the Internet, through which he keeps abreast of developments in Kenya. He has become a member, I learn, of a chat group called MuKenya, styling themselves Sons of Mau Mau. Some of the rhetoric of the group is bitter and inciteful, but perhaps that’s all it is: rhetoric. And perhaps Joseph’s distance from the turmoil back home, in these calmer surroundings, will help him to think of more constructive responses. His current passion certainly puts a barrier between us.
    The town closest to where we are is Korrenburg, an hour’s walk away, ten minutes by car. We sometimes walk there. The library has the usual thrillers and a surprisingly good collection of historical volumes on the African colonies of the Empire. There is