Fiction: Madhusudan’s life changes when he encounters Amir, a mysterious revolutionary, in Germany

A week into the journey and the experience of sailing away had eroded Madhusudan’s anguish about the shoes. There was far too much happening for him to dwell on it. Quickly, the loss of his shoes receded into the background when Amir told him he’d get shoes of much better make in Germany.

The Peter Larsen was brimming with students who were headed to Europe to study law like him, medicine like Amir, or political science at Kings, like Huverdas, or for a doctorate in history, like Garret, who was headed to Oxford. One of the passengers he met was a young girl going to London to be reunited with her husband. She was a Punjabi, pale and pretty, with a long braid tied back in a knot. She never met his gaze, reddening whenever he caught her eye. She reminded him slightly of Vimla.

Madhusudan spent many days of the journey on the prow, watching the waters of the Arabian Sea flicker their goodbyes at him. What were shoes compared with such a sight? Mrityunjay had got him a small, sealed flask containing water from the Ganga on the pressing of their mother, in case everything that was said about crossing the seas...

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