Here is another missing scene - this time Simran's POV - hopefully I can show that inside of her she is also making a transformation. Well anyway, that is how I see Simran's character.



Kauna Dil Chahata Hai - take 4

Simran's journey to India

Simran watched silently as London-Heathrow airport grew smaller and smaller in the distance as the plane took on more altitude. The checkerboard suburbs with the green parks grew dim. All her life England had been her home and she felt a sharp pain in her heart as she watched leaving everything behind that had become important in her life. Her friends, her schoolmates ... Raj. Somewhere down there, she thought dully, is Raj. A month ago his name, his face, had meant nothing to her but now it meant everything. Everything she ever wanted but couldn't possibly reach.

"Didi," a soft voice to her right whispered and Simran looked over to her sister. Behind her spectacles Chutki looked so serious, too serious and concerned, so that Simran forced a smile onto her lips.

"Are you looking forward to India?" Simran asked and watched as Chutki shook her head.

"No, not when the thought of India makes you so sad."

"India is the mother. It is high time you two will return to her. England has seduced you, Simran, you would not have lied to me and brought shame to your family if you had been born in Punjab."

For the umpteenth time Simran tried to tell her babuji that she had not shamed the family but when she opened her mouth, her mother's gentle hand settled on her knee.
Silence ... silence would be best. To endure the years ahead of her in silence, just existing and not living or dreaming. Raj ... How prophetic her poetry had been. Someone raps upon my heart - deep eyes want to give myself up to him - in my hands I see his face etched into my mind

She felt an ice-cold fist settling around her heart. What could she do? What escape would present herself? Why had she so foolishly left the cow bell at her former home? Did she really think Raj was in love with her just as she was in love with him?

"I love you, Simran ..." Oh Lord, she longed to hear those words again. How she longed to believe them ... How she longed for Raj to really mean them.

Or will you have the courage to have an affair with me?

But now as she had found the courage, it was too late. How foolish she had been to think she could escape this marriage. She had been so naive in her belief that her babuji would respect her as a human being with a free will rather than seeing her as a dutiful, subdued daughter.

She could not go through with this farce. She just could not. How could she bear the touch of a man other than Raj? How can she bear children other than those of Raj Malhotra?
The vise around her heart tightened and she closed her eyes against the tears that wanted to spill. She felt her mother's comforting touch, knew that her mother at least was sympathetic. After a moment, when she looked up she saw the hard stare of her bauji and she knew she could not escape.

"Raj," she whispered under her breath like a mantra. Only the Gods could work a miracle now ... but the small church in Switzerland was far away, no God, Christian, Hindu or otherwise could help her. Simran Singh was alone, and her future life stretched like a vast desert in front of her mind's eye.

© April 2005