The story so far: Neel and Mohit meet at an earthquake-affected village in Tamil Nadu, as part of a volunteer group. Neel feels he can do very little to help, but Mohit seems to have it all under control, moving about busily and taking “notes”.
“You have a reason for being a fake?” asked Neel.
“I’m not a fake!” said Mohit, his grin disappearing. “I just have no choice but to pretend a bit, now and then. You see, my Dad is a famous architect and builder in Mumbai: Jayant Jaywant, mostly known as JJ. And one day, I’m expected to follow in his footsteps — so how can I let him know I want to be a graphic artist and write superhero comics instead?” Mohit sighed and sat down on a stone and put his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry!” said Neel. “I shouldn’t have called you a fake. And you draw really well!”
He thought for a moment, then added, “I’m also pretending that I’m socially motivated when actually I’m often trying to escape from the heavy work. I’m only here because of my Grandma.”
Mohit looked up and grinned. His brief period of sadness seemed to have passed. “So you have parents AND grandparents who want you to do the right thing? That’s tough to live up to!”
Neel nodded and sat down beside Mohit on the stone.
Story unfolds
“We’re from Australia,” he said. “My grandma Ann and I are from Perth and grandma’s pen friend Nisha is from Wellington, New Zealand. We were all to travel to India together for a holiday. When they heard about Project Rebuild Arramandal, they thought being involved would be a wonderful opportunity for Susan — that’s Nisha’s granddaughter — and me to see the land of our forefathers and also help those who are less privileged.”
Mohit nodded. “I get that. I’m a bit confused, though; what’s a pen friend?”
Neel explained, “Long ago, when my grandparents were young, they would make friends with someone from far away by exchanging letters — by post. Sometimes, you didn’t ever get to meet your pen friends, but you exchanged information and news about where you lived, what you liked to do, and a lot more.”
Mohit nodded. “I’ve heard about snail mail and how people waited weeks for replies.”
“They were pen friends from school. Both were Fijians of Indian origin but they only met after they were married and had children of their own. Imagine!”
“I guess we’re lucky. I’ve already travelled abroad with my Mom and Dad…” said Mohit.
“…and I am here! In the land of my great-great-grandfather! He too travelled far away from his home when he was just a few years older than me, but not willingly. Not according to what my Grandma told me.”
To be continued...
Published - March 16, 2021 12:48 am IST
