The Little Rainmaker Read online

  Anoushqa was very sure that she wanted to be a grown-up when she grew up.

  All grown-ups seemed to have this air of independence about them. They weren’t answerable to anyone if they came back late from work. No one scolded them for staying up late at night. They could invite their friends home at any time of the day, unlike Anoushqa, who had to ask Ma for permission if she wanted to have friends over.

  Over the years, Anoushqa had realized that this independence came from the money they earned. Ma had bought this really expensive bag last month. Dad had expressed his disapproval over it but could not really chide her about it. This was because he knew that Ma would, in turn, instantly point to his latest phone, which cost only a few thousand rupees less than the bag. It was based on mutual understanding, this earning-money-and-spending-on-what-you-wish business. And this was why Anoushqa was sure that she wanted to be a grown-up more than anything else in the world. Had she been a grown-up today, the Rs 20,000 for the magician’s fees would have been a piece of cake.

  ‘Magic is an illusion,’ Dad would say if she ever approached him for money.

  Ma would say, ‘Believe me, it’s a waste of money. You know better than to believe in a magician’s false promise, Anoushqa.’

  She could have argued it was for Grampa, but a scientist’s promise and a magician’s grand claims about making rain were two very different things. Time was running out. Just a week to the day the magician had promised to make rain, and Anoushqa knew that she would have to arrange the money on her own somehow.

  She emptied her purse in the recreation room at school during recess. It contained Rs 2000 exactly.

  If only she’d had her birthday money! All Rs 5000 of it! But Ma and Dad had deposited all of it in the bank so Anoushqa could buy the latest bicycle—the one with eight gears and a power swivel rod that equipped the bike to turn sharply. ‘If only I could tell Ma and Dad that I don’t want the cycle any more. I want rain!’ thought Anoushqa.

  Just then, she heard giggles and laughter from a corner of the room. She turned to see Sam, Hafsah and some other students crowding around Aadi, who looked different somehow. It took Anoushqa a whole minute to realize that this was because he had cut his hair. Those beautiful brown locks, all chopped off!

  ‘What did you do to your hair?’ Anoushqa shouted as she ran up to him.

  Aadi just smiled, went to a corner, picked up a guitar and started strumming it. ‘Watch this beauty,’ he said. The girls sighed over the blue guitar, while the boys stood watching Aadi with envy. ‘I’ve been saving my own pocket money for this guitar since last year. I was falling short by a thousand bucks, and that’s why I cut my hair.’ The students looked confused. What did hair have to do with a thousand bucks?

  Aadi read their minds, and took out a piece of paper from his new guitar case. Sam read it. ‘Get paid for a haircut this year.’ It was a flyer for a hair salon ad. In smaller print, it said, ‘Wigs made from your hair will be donated to cancer patients in partnership with Care O’Hair Shampoos and Conditioners.’

  ‘They pay for a haircut?’ Anoushqa asked, surprised. Aadi nodded, and suddenly Anoushqa hugged him really tight. ‘Thank you … thank you so much,’ she whispered.

  Aadi turned as red as a beetroot. He stayed red for a full two hours after Anoushqa had let go of him! Aadi had thought it was a great thing to be able to buy that guitar, but for Anoushqa, it meant much more than that: it meant that her backup plan was on again.

  Chapter 12

  When Anoushqa sat down on the salon chair, the hairdresser—Bobby—asked, ‘Ready to get that haircut, miss?’ Anoushqa’s eyes welled up with tears. No, she was not ready! How could she tell this stranger that her hair meant the world to her?

  She had been all of four when Ma had tried to chop it off so it would be easier for her to manage. Anoushqa had thrown such a huge tantrum in the hair salon that Ma had sworn never to touch her hair again. But moms will be moms. She had persisted over the years, but all Ma’s attempts at cutting her hair had been thwarted by Anoushqa. Sometimes through tears, sometimes through hunger strikes (she had once gone without food for two whole days until Ma had given in) and at other times by plain slammingthe-door-in-Ma’s-face.

  Ma had called her stubborn. Dad had called her disobedient. Grampa had called her strong-willed (sweet old Grampa!), but she had accepted all the brickbats just so she could keep her hair long.

  ‘I’ve always thought I was Rapunzel in my last birth,’ she had once confessed to Sam.

  Sam had looked confused. ‘One,’ she had said, ‘I don’t believe in rebirth. And two, Rapunzel was in a story… She was not a real person.’

  However, Anoushqa had persisted. ‘But stories are about real persons,’ she’d said. ‘Yes, they are exaggerated, but they are real. It’s like Jurassic Park. It didn’t happen to real people, but that doesn’t mean dinosaurs didn’t exist.’

  Sam had lost the plot by then, wondering if they were talking about rebirth, hair, Rapunzel or dinosaurs, and so she’d given in.

  Anoushqa’s hair had been the one thing that brought her closer to looking like Noor Enayat. And if she cut it today, Noor would be a distant dream. She looked up as the hairdresser brought the scissors close to her hair and shouted, ‘STOP! WAIT! I need to think.’

  Anoushqa looked at her long hair in the mirror and touched it. ‘Should I cut it or let it be? No one has to know about this… ever. I could just walk out and forget it. I will borrow money from someone else or steal it from Ma’s cupboard. No, that’s wrong. Well, I don’t care. Should I cut it, or should I not?’ she wondered, her mind in a quandary.

  Suddenly, she remembered Grampa’s advice. ‘If you don’t find answers to your questions, you are asking the wrong questions.’ Anoushqa’s heart skipped a beat. This time she asked herself, ‘What is more important? Making it rain for Grampa or looking like Noor?’

  The answer was clear. She looked at Bobby and said, ‘I’m ready. Cut away. Make it as short as possible. The shorter, the better.’ For once, Ma would be happy.

  The hairdresser nodded and snip went the scissors. ‘Snip, snip, snip.’ A tear escaped from Anoushqa’s eye and dropped to the palm of her hand in her lap. In that moment, Anoushqa felt really alone.

  Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice. ‘Wait! Hold it right there,’ it said.

  Anoushqa turned towards the voice, and saw that it belonged to none other than Samaira!

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Anoushqa exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. The hair clips were still in place on her head, making her look really weird.

  ‘I wanted to help,’ Sam replied nervously. ‘Listen, I can’t see you going through this alone. I realized your plan when you hugged Aadi. I’d called the magician, and he told me you needed money to pay him to make rain.’

  Anoushqa was confused. ‘How did you know about the magician?’ she asked.

  Sam was caught out. Stammering, she confessed, ‘Er… that ad… I gave it to Hafsah to give to you.’ Anoushqa was shocked. Sam continued. ‘So I thought I might as well contribute.’

  Anoushqa looked at her wide-eyed. ‘What? You? You will also get your hair cut?’ she asked incredulously.

  Sam smiled and nodded. ‘It will grow back. If I can help you collect money for Grampa’s last wish, I will do it,’ she said matter-of-factly.

  Anoushqa squealed in delight. She went and hugged Sam like she had never hugged her before. Or maybe she had hugged her like that once before—when Sam had won the inter-school badminton competition. Badminton was one thing Anoushqa wasn’t good at, but one in which Sam excelled. So Anoushqa had cheered for her loudly when she was on the court. When Sam had emerged the clear winner, Anoushqa had run up to her and literally flung herself at her. Their joyous picture had made it to the school magazine, and both of them had framed copies hung up in their respective bedrooms. Sam remembered that day clearly too, and she loved the fact that Anoushqa was hugging her the same way again.

  Sam stepped
back and said, ‘Just one more thing.’ Anoushqa wondered what else she had up her sleeve, even as Sam whistled loudly to someone outside. In came Hafsah in her two ponytails and Vaani in her two ribboned plaits. Following them were Aadya, Inaya, Rehni, Ritu, Avika and two girls from another section.

  Anoushqa just stood there wide-eyed and open-mouthed. ‘Oh my God, Vaani? You too?’ she exclaimed. Vaani shrugged and smiled in reply.

  Bobby realized that the parlour didn’t have enough chairs to accommodate all of them. He decided to take them on one by one. Snip went the scissors, and the chunks of hair noiselessly fell to the salon floor.

  Anoushqa was delighted. She would easily be able to afford the magician now. She nudged Sam and whispered to her, ‘But how did you manage to convince them all?’

  ‘I was hoping you would ask,’ Sam whispered back, and went on to tell her how it had all played out in class that afternoon. It had been quite a task to convince the other girls. They had come up with all sorts of protests:

  ‘My mom will never let me cut my hair!’

  ‘I will have to ask at home first.’

  ‘Why should I get my hair cut for Anoushqa’s Grampa?’

  ‘But I love my hair!’

  Sam had been on the verge of tears at their reactions, but she’d pulled herself together, stood on the teacher’s desk and admonished them, ‘Shame on you! Do you all think I’m doing this for fun? Mind you, it hasn’t rained for ten years. Do you even know what that means?’

  Everyone had looked at each other, wondering if anyone knew the answer. Sam had taken a dramatic pause for effect. She, too, didn’t know what it meant. But it had to be something serious enough to make these girls part with their crowning glories. Her mind had worked faster than ever before. ‘You all know that water was discovered on Mars in 2015. But do you know that NASA is now inventing an aircraft that can be sent to Mars to import water from there?’

  ‘Really?’ Hafsah had asked. ‘Then what is the problem?’

  Sam had looked irritated at her denseness. ‘What if they encounter aliens? Have you ever thought of that?’

  Vaani had mused aloud, ‘Well… they might be able to loan water to us then…’

  ‘At what cost?’ Sam had asked. ‘They need water on their planet too. So obviously they will give it to us at a very high price.’

  Avika had added, ‘And high prices equal the imposition of severe conditions… on us.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Sam had been relieved that at least someone was following the conversation. ‘Tell me, Hafsah, how would we ever pay back Mars? And what if their currency is stronger than ours? We would be forever in debt, and you know what happens when you are in debt.’

  The girls had fallen silent. They didn’t know what happened when you were in debt. But Sam had heard her parents speak a lot on the subject at home. ‘You live by their rules. And have you ever seen aliens with hair?’ she’d elaborated.

  They’d all shaken their heads, because none of the Hollywood films that they had seen on aliens showed them with hair on their heads. Bald—that seemed to be the fashion on Mars.

  Sam had tried to hide a smile. ‘You will be forced to cut your hair and never be allowed to grow it again. So you might as well cut it off now, pay the magician the money to make it rain, save your planet and then grow your hair back again,’ she’d said.

  The girls had been silent once again. It’d seemed like a safe plan…

  Sam had announced, ‘You know what? I will save my planet by cutting my hair. Who else wants to join me?’ She’d gulped inwardly, wondering, ‘What if nobody volunteers?’

  But to her surprise and relief, Vaani had said, ‘I will do it. I want to live by my rules.’

  Sam had smiled and high-fived Vaani. Vaani had really long hair, so her hair would fetch a good price.

  Hafsah had joined in too, saying, ‘I will do it too. I want to save Grampa. I mean the world… I mean our planet… sorry… who are we saving anyway?’

  Sam had taken her hand and raised it in the air, exclaiming, ‘We are saving us! Let’s go!’

  And there they were. Ten girls who had agreed to get a haircut to save Planet Earth. Anoushqa and Sam laughed at the apparent ludicrousness of the idea until they cried. Anoushqa realized then that this was the reason Sam was her best friend and not Hafsah. Because she was crazy. Just like her.

  An hour later, the girls stood in front of the salon mirrors and admired their new chic look. They all looked alike. Almost like twins… er… henduplets… Was there a word like that? Who knows?

  Hafsah clapped her hands in glee. ‘I feel so light! Like a bird!’ she exclaimed.

  Vaani looked at herself and announced, ‘Mom will be in for a shock.’

  Anoushqa spoke for everyone with ‘Tell me about it!’

  They got Rs 11,000 for eleven haircuts, and Anoushqa added the Rs 2000 from her piggy bank to this amount. She stuffed the cash in an envelope with an accompanying note, and slipped it under the door of Magic Mistry Rainwalla’s office. The note said:

  I could only arrange for Rs 13,000 at the moment. I promise to pay you the remaining amount after you deliver on the rain.

  Regards,

  Anoushqa

  PS: Please don’t mention my name in any of your ads. Thank you.

  When Magic Mistry Rainwalla picked up the envelope and opened it, he smiled. ‘OWN! It’s time to start preparing for the magic. Let’s do this!’ he called out.

  OWN had been mixing a pink-coloured liquid with a green one in a cauldron. The mixture bubbled and then started smoking. Suddenly, the mixture boiled over the cauldron’s edges and fell on to the floor.

  Mr Rainwalla flared up when he saw this. ‘What a nincompoop you are! You silly girl! Clean up this mess! NOW!’ he screamed.

  OWN rushed to get a cloth and cleared the mess even as her dad continued barking orders at her. ‘We need a checklist. Do you have your coloured syrups ready?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she replied with trepidation.

  ‘How about the storm-stirrer? How much do we need? ANSWER!’ he shouted.

  OWN mumbled, ‘Er… er… 200 ml will create a decent amount of storm, sir.’

  ‘And what about the rainbow-runner? And the cast for it? You’d better not forget it! You’d better not ruin this experiment for me, young lady! If you do, I will send you to that black hole, where I sent the naughty rabbit the last time. UNDERSTAND?’

  OWN was very scared of the black hole. She had never been there but it didn’t sound like a nice place. She nodded her head and said meekly, ‘I won’t make any mistakes.’

  But Mr Rainwalla wouldn’t stop threatening her. ‘If you do, you will regret them. Now go. Collect the colour containers and some droplet-droppers. Clean them and keep them in the bag,’ he continued.

  As OWN fulfilled her father’s orders, Mr Rainwalla rubbed his hands in anticipation, and smoke came out of them. ‘Ten years… I’ve been working towards this for ten years. Finally, the time has come. 17 September 2028… Just three days away. After that I will be the greatest magician in this world,’ he said, his eyes gleaming.

  OWN saw the magic in her father’s eyes, a magic she dreamt of owning some day. ‘That will be the day Dad will be proud of me. I will finally see him smile,’ she thought.

  One day, she would create something. One day, she would find her destiny and her dad. But for now, she would help him make rain.

  Chapter 13

  Anoushqa missed her hair. Each time she picked up a comb, each time she looked at herself in the mirror and each time she washed her hair. She kept touching her head again and again, almost like she would find the hair hidden somewhere… like the lost treasure that the pirates in Grampa’s stories were always looking for.

  Dad found her look ‘agreeable’ and ‘smart’. Grampa said he loved her any which way. Ma added that this ‘no-nonsense’ look suited her personality.

  Anoushqa asked, ‘What is my personality?’

  Ma sighed and said, �
�You will know when you grow up.’

  And that was that. Something that had meant so much to her didn’t mean anything at all to anyone else. She missed it terribly. But there was another thought troubling her, a thought she articulated aloud. ‘How can you miss something you’ve never seen?’

  While Anoushqa understood that missing her hair was normal, her mind boggled at the fact that she missed rain. She had never even seen rain, nor felt it. Unless you counted the time she had kicked inside Ma’s tummy in response to it, Anoushqa had never really touched rain. Yet she missed it. How was that possible? It was like an ache in the heart for something gone … something precious. She missed rain like she had known it forever. How?

  Ma dried her wet hair that had been washed with unrefined H2O as she answered her question, ‘Maybe you feel this way because you are doing it for Grampa.’

  Dissatisfied with the answer, she moved on to Dad, who was busy cleaning Grampa’s cupboard. ‘But, Dad, it’s like how I miss Pixie. Like I long to hold her on some days, stroke the back of her neck, kiss her even. I want to catch rain… like it was… like it’s an old friend who has gone missing. Isn’t that weird?’ she attempted to explain.

  Dad shrugged. ‘Maybe you need to take a break from this rainmaking thing. Go play with your friends, and try to distract yourself from this thought,’ he said.

  Anoushqa was upset that Dad wanted this feeling to go away. He didn’t understand that it wasn’t temporary. He didn’t realize that she WANTED to miss Pixie forever. And maybe she wanted to miss rain forever too. What she couldn’t understand was how she could miss something that she had never even seen.

  ‘Maybe it’s genetic memory,’ answered Grampa knowingly when she took her question to him. Grampa saw her looking confused and explained further, ‘You know how parents pass on their food allergies, certain diseases and some physical habits genetically to their children?’

  ‘Like I have an allergy to mushrooms, just like Ma.’ Anoushqa nodded.

  ‘Yes, just like that. Maybe memory can be passed on genetically too. Maybe you miss rain because we miss it, and somehow your Ma, your Dad and I have unconsciously passed on that “missing” to you,’ said Grampa.