THE MAGICAL PALACE by Kunal Mukjerjee

tittle-tattle!’ The spectre of my humiliation in class rose in front of me again and my heart pounded. Rani must never find out.
    ‘Rani, did Rahul tell you that he got into trouble in class? Rahul, you better be careful. Remember Amit and how he got into trouble …’
    ‘What? What?’ Rani was very interested. ‘What happened in your class, Ranjan? Tell me.’
    ‘That’s not funny, Ranjan.’ I glared at him. ‘Nothing happened, Rani.’ I turned to her. ‘Really, nothing happened. He is just teasing. Aren’t you, Ranjan?’
    ‘Rahul!’ my mother called from the dining room. ‘Help me set the table.’ She entered the sitting room and we fell silent. When she left, I stayed, reluctant to leave in case Ranjan told Rani anything about school. But I was again saved by Ma, who came back and said, ‘Rani, I need your help too with the cake. Ranjan, please excuse them for a few minutes.’
    ‘Sure, Aunty,’ he said.
    Upset and angry, as I left I squeezed his arm as hard as I could, whispering in his ear, ‘If you tell Rani about Mr Swaminathan, I swear I will never ever talk to you again.’
    Ma had made everything I loved for high tea. Sandwiches made with green chutney, mango chutney, tomato, cheese and eggs were placed on a platter. There were also freshly fried samosas and alu tikias. And Ma had baked a pound cake and frosted it that very day. The frosting was already melting in the afternoon humidity. We tucked in greedily and, for a long time, no one spoke.
    ‘Who wants to play on the swings?’ Rani asked after we had eaten our fill.
    ‘Go ahead, I will clean up after you,’ my mother generously offered.
    So off we ran to the swings. There were only two of them.
    ‘Who is going to get on first? ‘I am taking my favourite side,’ Rani announced. She smiled coyly at Ranjan. ‘As our guest of honour, you can swing on this one. Will you race me? Let’s see if you are stronger than Rahul. I always win. Rahul, you can get on the swing later, since you are the baby.’ I stared at Rani—my tomboyish sister was acting coquettishly!
    Ranjan swaggered to the swing and jumped on, his chest puffed out as he gave Rani a flirtatious smile. He turned to me with a victorious look. ‘Hey, don’t feel bad, Rahul. That’s what happens when you cheat at Monopoly. I always find a way to even the score.’ He hissed the last part at me.
    Neither of them noticed as I left to go to the gulmohar tree. I could hear them egging each other on and arguing about who was stronger and faster.
    The sun slipped over the palace walls and the shadows lengthened soon after. The chorus of birdsong increased in volume and frogs started croaking in the pool. The crickets joined the symphony and the melody of nature preparing for dusk enveloped us. Tiny flecks of black lace flitted across the sky—the bats had started their nightly explorations.
    A car came up the driveway, its lights sweeping the tree trunks. It was Ranjan’s father’s car. Ranjan was leaving and I was ready to forget the unpleasantness, wanting his goodwill back. As we ran over to the car from different parts of the garden, my heart stopped. Ranjan’s father was at the wheel with Shubho in the backseat. I was surprised to see a young girl sitting next to him.
    ‘That is Shubho Dada’s girlfriend,’ Ranjan whispered.
    ‘Isn’t your father angry with him? Does her father know that her boyfriend is Shubho Dada? How does he allow this? Isn’t he just fifteen years old?’ I asked.
    Ranjan looked surprised as he said, ‘No, he is sixteen. And why should either my father or hers be angry? Our parents expect us to date. My father dated my mother when he was in higher secondary school too, just like Shubho Dada.’
    My head was spinning. I could not reconcile the openness and casual attitude of his family to the values that prevailed in mine.
    ‘You are so lucky,’ I said, thinking of all the times I had been told that dating was not respectable and that my