The Little Rainmaker Read online

  While all these sinister thoughts were running through her head, Anoushqa turned a corner, and her shoes made the loudest clip-clop sound ever—a sound that echoed down the entire corridor. She immediately stopped, cursing herself. ‘Shh,’ she whispered to herself, as if doing so would keep her shoes from making noise. She shivered; there was no inlet for sunlight in the corridor, and it was terribly cold. She uttered a silent prayer, ‘Let me get out of here safely, God, and I promise I will never ever get my father to sign a fake leave application. I promise … I promise.’

  The prayer filled her with renewed strength, and she plodded on, looking at the nameplates on the doors that flanked either side of the corridor. ‘Magic Astrologers, Magic Tarot Card Readers, Magic Crystal Reading, Magic Numerology Experts …’ Finally, she found herself facing a door that said ‘MAGIC MISTRY RAINWALLA’.

  The sound of something bubbling could be heard from behind the door. ‘This is it. Do you really want to go in?’ Anoushqa asked herself as she took the newspaper cutting out of her bag. The ad was blue and green in colour. Anoushqa cringed at the spelling mistakes, because even at ten she could spell ‘specialist’ correctly. She had lied to Ma, telling her she was going to Sam’s place to finish her homework. She knew her lie was safe, since Sam would not call home as they were not talking. But now that she was here, she regretted it. ‘I should turn back now. NOW,’ she felt instinctively.

  Suddenly smoke appeared from under the door, and Anoushqa stepped back, startled. ‘Oh no. This smoke will surely make me unconscious—or kill me! Run, Anoushqa, run!’ her frenzied mind told her in panic. But while Anoushqa’s mind was running away, her feet refused to obey and stood frozen to the ground outside MAGIC MISTRY RAINWALLA’s office. To her shock, the door to the office squeaked open and she heard a loud male voice say, ‘Please enter. I know you’ve arrived.’

  An amazed Anoushqa found herself staring into a room full of smoke. She coughed. The voice announced again, ‘Fear not, child. The clouds will part soon and you will be able to see the complete picture.’ And true enough, within a matter of seconds, the smoke cleared up and she saw a corpulent man seated on a chair, smiling.

  The crime show anchor had always warned: ‘The sweetest of smiles are the deadliest of poison.’ Magic Mistry Rainwalla was smiling his sweetest smile. On his head was a huge yellow turban with a beautiful peacock feather in it. His thick, bushy eyebrows drew attention to his kohl-lined eyes, and the vertical vermilion mark on his forehead made him look like one of those dancers Anoushqa had seen on stage. A broad nose and thick moustache hid his unnaturally pink lips; Anoushqa suspected that he had used some lipstick. He wore long yellow silk robes with a navyblue pattern, and from under his desk, Anoushqa could see the blue leggings and Jodhpuri slippers that completed his look.

  Anoushqa was amazed to see a magician at such close quarters. As she looked around the room, she was intimidated. Two white doves cooed inside a big golden cage. The queen from a giant pack of cards was put up on the wall, encased in a handcrafted wooden frame. Coins—silver, gold, bronze, copper … all kinds—were kept on a table at the back of the room. Piles and piles of them. Suddenly, she squealed and jumped up. A furry rabbit had just nibbled on her foot and was now scurrying across the room.

  The magician laughed and said, ‘Please have a seat. I know why you are here.’ His loud voice boomed in the small room.

  Anoushqa gulped down her fear and nervously perched on a stool. ‘Er … how?’ she began.

  He smiled and said, ‘That’s my job. Let me guess …’ He closed his eyes as if he were listening to a distant voice. ‘I see a desert, and an oasis … a thirsty camel … in search of water … I see … rain.’ He opened his eyes to see if he was correct and, from the girl’s face, knew he was. ‘I can help you,’ he declared.

  Anoushqa asked in eager excitement, ‘Can you really? Actually, it’s my Grampa. He’s dying and he needs to see rain one last time. I wish to fulfil his dream.’

  The magician smiled and said, ‘So do I. My father, the great magician Magic Mistry Colourwalla, wished that I would create a magical invention that would change the world. I believe I’m now on the brink of THE magical invention of the century—creating rain. And that’s the reason I have named myself Rainwalla. You see, each generation of my family is obliged to leave behind a legacy.’

  ‘Legacy?’ Anoushqa asked, not quite understanding.

  The magician nodded. ‘My great-grandfather named himself Magic Mistry Smokewalla. He was able to magically create smoke out of thin air. My grandfather named himself Magic Mistry Stormwalla, as he could cook up storms out of nothing,’ he elaborated.

  Anoushqa intervened, ‘Does that mean your father created … er … colours? Since it’s Colourwalla?’

  The magician smiled. ‘No, but he could change the colour of the sky on a whim. Green, blue, black or flaming red … the sky bent to his will,’ he explained. Then he said something surprising. ‘And now with your help, I will be able to reveal my magic to the world—the magic of making rain.’

  Anoushqa was confused. ‘Oh! I thought YOU were helping ME,’ she said.

  Mr Rainwalla smiled. ‘I am,’ he said mysteriously. ‘But each message from the heavens needs a messenger.’

  Suddenly he got up and announced, ‘We will do this a month from now. It’s an auspicious date for my forefathers, and anyway the preparations will take that much time. My assistant here will help me, and she will tell you all about the process. You can …’ He stopped in mid-sentence, took a sharp turn and barked at no one in particular, ‘Can’t you balance yourself properly? What kind of magician do you call yourself? Huh?’

  Anoushqa looked around but saw no one. Mr Rainwalla noticed Anoushqa’s blank expression, realized his mistake and quickly snapped his fingers. A little girl appeared out of thin air. She was not more than ten years old, and she seemed to be walking on a very hot bed of coals. She looked embarrassed and scared.

  Mr Rainwalla shouted again, ‘Come here and take notes! Right now!’ She quickly picked up a notebook, sat on a chair next to them and looked up at Anoushqa with a dazzling smile.

  Anoushqa was astounded! This was so cool! The girl had been with them all this while, and she hadn’t even noticed!

  ‘Meet my daughter, student and assistant,’ introduced Mr Rainwalla.

  Anoushqa asked the girl her name. She looked at her father, who smiled and said, ‘Didn’t I just say that we name ourselves after we have found our own magical invention? I named myself just five days ago—Rainwalla.’

  ‘But how will she know what her invention will be?’ she asked, curious.

  Mr Rainwalla smiled. ‘She will know in due course of time. Just like I did, and my father before me and his father before him,’ he said.

  The girl added, ‘We all either find our destiny or our destiny finds us.’

  Anoushqa was impressed with her answer, although she didn’t fully understand its meaning. ‘But what do you call yourself at the moment?’ she asked the girl.

  ‘OWN,’ cut in Mr Rainwalla. ‘One Without a Name. She owns her destiny now.’

  ‘OWN,’ Anoushqa repeated and smiled. She loved it. This is exactly what she had meant when she was talking about naming streets according to their character. People should also be named after their best quality, she felt. And how would they know their best quality unless they had lived for a few years? OWN—what a powerful name!

  Anoushqa found the voice of the crime show anchor fading away in her mind as she grew to like the magician and his daughter more and more with each passing minute. ‘Which school do you go to?’ Anoushqa asked the girl curiously.

  OWN simply pointed to her father and said, ‘This is my school.’

  Anoushqa was immediately jealous. ‘Wow! So no homework assignments, no projects, no classes and no books? You’re lucky!’ she exclaimed.

  OWN smiled at this and said, ‘Well, I study magic. Believe me, it’s no easy subject. Chemical equations for ma
gic potions … theory exams for which I learn the formulae of all the magical experiments … and then there are practical exams for each as well! I also have to read The Art of Illusion—one of the thickest books in the world. And I’m expected to know it by heart! Learning all the incantations and, most importantly, working on my thesis—my own magical invention, something I will be known by … It’s an extremely punishing schedule!’

  Mr Rainwalla suddenly shouted again, ‘Really? YOU want to be known?’ OWN dropped the notebook in her hands at his unexpected reaction. He went on, ‘Then don’t just sit there, young lady! Get up and make the invisible magic potion! Let’s see if you remember the measurements!’

  Anoushqa realized that magic was not all that fun unless you were just a spectator. OWN bowed as if she had just finished a performance and went to another part of the room, where she started to potter around with beakers.

  Turning to Anoushqa, Mr Rainwalla announced, ‘A month from now, we will create rain. Is that agreeable?’ Anoushqa nodded. ‘It will cost you Rs 20,000,’ he casually added.

  Anoushqa had a coughing fit on hearing the amount, and said in alarm, ‘But I don’t have that much money! I can ask my parents but I’m not sure if they will be willing to pay.’

  Mr Rainwalla sighed. ‘Well, the truth is that the preparations for performing this magic cost over a lakh. I’m charging twenty grand only because it’s my debut,’ he said.

  At this, Anoushqa cautiously asked, ‘Could you give me a discount?’ She had seen her mother ask for discounts everywhere. At the clothes store. At the vegetable market. Even at the flower market! ‘Mom can get a discount anywhere. If she were here right now, she would have finalized the deal in Rs 10,000 flat!’ thought Anoushqa.

  Mr Rainwalla thought for a bit. ‘Hmm … I can’t offer any discount, but what I can do is throw in a rainbow for free.’

  This proved to be the clincher. Anoushqa almost jumped at the thought of seeing the beautiful coloured arc in the sky. ‘I accept,’ she said and added, ‘but I can’t pay the full amount in advance.’

  ‘Well, you can pay fifteen thousand now and five later. Deal?’ asked Mr Rainwalla.

  Anoushqa couldn’t control her excitement. This had been so easy. And the very next instant, she was assailed by doubt. ‘Perhaps this was a tad too easy,’ she thought. Her heart sank.

  Outside the ‘magic’ building, Anoushqa quickly covered her head with a scarf to avoid sunburn. She went home, all the while worrying about the 15,000 rupees she needed to raise.

  ‘This rainmaking is turning out to be more complicated than I thought. Oh, Grampa, why couldn’t you have wished for something simpler?’ she thought despairingly.

  Chapter 9

  No sooner had Anoushqa reached the school’s common room than Maurice exclaimed, ‘You won’t believe it—5.1K likes!’

  Anoushqa’s bag fell from her hand. She couldn’t believe it! She went and checked the phone in Maurice’s hand—it was open on Grampa’s social media page.

  Maurice remarked, ‘Man … I’m amazed. Your page has gone viral! You are famous all over the world, Anoushqa! Look, someone from Kazakhstan has liked our page! And here, someone from Paris too!’

  Anoushqa blinked twice, and Maurice had to shake her a bit. ‘Do you know what this means?’ she asked. Anoushqa shook her head. ‘You silly girl! This means that the prime minister might actually notice our petition! Your dream might just come true, Anoushqa! He might say yes … yes!’ said Maurice, her eyes shining with joy.

  Just then, the bell rang for the next class to begin. Maurice took her bag, hugged Anoushqa and rushed out with the parting words, ‘Will catch you later. Let me know if you hear something.’

  Anoushqa stood frozen for a moment, not knowing how to react. ‘Could it be true? Would the PM really agree?’ she thought with mounting excitement. All her classmates, who had heard what Maurice had said, stood up to applaud her.

  ‘It’s incredible … 5.1K likes!’ said Aadi, coming up and hugging Anoushqa.

  Hafsah jumped up, clapping. ‘You’re famous! Someone from our class is famous!’ she squealed.

  Ratul was naturally a bit jealous and said, ‘I will also make a page for HD Mall. It will get more likes than this.’

  Sam tried to approach Anoushqa, but she turned away, thinking, ‘Let Sam feel bad. When she gets to know about my master plan, she will be even more jealous than she obviously is.’

  Vaani remarked encouragingly, ‘You know what? I think the prime minister will respond positively.’

  Aadi backed Vaani up. ‘Yeah, he has no choice,’ he said.

  Anoushqa wanted to remain realistic despite the encouragement. However, somewhere in her heart, hope had taken root. ‘Yes, maybe he will,’ she thought.

  T-Rex came in just at that moment and said, ‘Good morning, everyone. Listen up. Next week, we will do a very special experiment in class … something you will like … especially you, Anoushqa.’ Anoushqa sat up nervously when she heard her name. She didn’t want to be in T-Rex’s bad books after the volcano fiasco. T-Rex smiled at her and said, ‘Can you guess what it is, Anoushqa?’

  Anoushqa mumbled uncertainly, ‘Er … something to do with volcanoes?’ Maybe T-Rex was benevolent enough to give her a chance to redeem herself, she thought.

  The class erupted in laughter at her reply, and T-Rex, too, couldn’t help smiling. ‘No … we’ll spare you more embarrassment. This time we will make it rain in class,’ she said. There were murmurs all around, and everyone looked at Anoushqa, who was dumbfounded. T-Rex smiled reassuringly at her and continued. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. We will just make it rain in a glass. Nothing too elaborate, but at least it will be a starting point for you to understand how rain used to fall on earth before you were all born.’

  Anoushqa didn’t know what to say. Finally, she managed a weak ‘Er … thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘No. Thank YOU, Anoushqa. You gave me the idea. Congrats on your social media page. I hope the prime minister calls,’ T-Rex said with a wink.

  In that instant, Anoushqa’s face—and, in fact, her life—brightened up. She hadn’t even realized that T-Rex’s approval was so important to her until that moment. ‘So she is not mad at me, after all,’ Anoushqa thought to herself, taking her seat happily.

  Watching the evening news was a family ritual in the Narang family. Dad would return from work, make himself a cup of tea, put his feet up on the recliner and turn on the projection TV. Their projection TV used an outdated direct-to-home service. It projected the picture on the wall, and they needed to actually touch the wall for the channel to appear.

  Ma, too, would appear in the doorway at around this time. Tired, she would nudge Dad to make a cup of tea for her too. He would lazily get off his recliner, though only after extracting a promise from her to make his morning cup of tea the next day. Grampa, too, would join everyone for the evening news. And Anoushqa would happily sit beside him, doing her homework assignments while she, too, watched the news.

  But this evening was special. You see, up until this evening, no one had any inkling of what Anoushqa had been up to. But things were going to change … soon.

  Dad raised the TV’s volume as the anchor came on, and Anoushqa smiled. It was her favourite: Noor Enayat. She was wearing crisp yellow cotton today, and looked like sunshine. Anoushqa sighed watching her, wondering when she herself would look like that. ‘The environmentalists of the world are up in arms against the construction of the HumiDome Mall in the heart of India’s capital. We are in talks with the environment minister, who is right here with us tonight. Sir, how has the Government of India approved the construction of this mall despite negative reactions from the country’s environmentalists?’ asked Noor.

  Anoushqa shouted excitedly, ‘That’s Ratul’s mall!’

  Dad shook his head. ‘What a waste of money and resources,’ he said. ‘Tut-tut … Why can’t people be more thoughtful about how they live?’

  ‘Shhhh!’ Ma shushed Dad
because she couldn’t hear what the environment minister had to say. Grampa quietly watched the news as Noor Enayat spoke.

  ‘We just heard from the environment minister of India, and as of now, the inauguration of the HumiDome Mall seems to be going very much according to plan,’ Enayat was saying. ‘In other news, a little girl and her grandfather are breaking the Internet through their rainmaking page on the most popular site on social media,’ Enayat continued.

  Anoushqa suddenly became super alert. Could it be possible that her favourite anchor in the entire world was reporting about her? But before she could say this aloud, there she was, on the national news, hugging Grampa on her social media page!

  Everyone at home looked shocked. Dad sprang up first. ‘Hey! That’s our Anoushqa!’ he exclaimed.

  Ma’s tired eyes suddenly widened. ‘That IS Anoushqa! Oh my God! But what is this page about?’

  They all watched the news in silence for the next few minutes. Anoushqa wanted to run and hide somewhere. ‘It’s on the NEWS! Why would Noor Enayat do this without telling me?’ she thought.

  ‘Huh … 10.2K likes?’ Dad remarked in wonder.

  ‘When did you do this? Who’s this scientist?’ Ma asked in disbelief while Noor was interviewing Gargi on the screen. Anoushqa looked at Grampa from the corner of her eye and saw that he was having trouble fighting his tears.

  Noor Enayat came back on and said, ‘We haven’t received any response from the prime minister’s office yet, but we know for sure that the whole world supports this little girl, Anoushqa, and her Grampa. We sure hope it rains for them. This is Noor Enayat reporting live from India for INC.’ The news report ended, and everyone stared at Anoushqa. For a moment, the room was in total silence. Anoushqa looked from Ma to Dad to Grampa and then back at Ma again.

  And just like that, she broke down and howled like a baby. ‘I am so sorry I did this without telling you. But I tried to tell you. You guys wouldn’t listen, and … I didn’t have any answers, and … how could I know … I’m just ten years old!’ she sobbed.