herself from her lover’s embrace, covered her face with her
duppatta
and hurried back to her home.
She slipped off the bangles from her arms and put them back beside her daughter’s pillow. She folded her daughter’s sequined
duppatta,
took her own back and went to her charpoy. She fell asleep at once and slept as she had never slept before — almost as if she were making up for a lifetime of sleeplessness.
When she woke, the sun was streaming into the courtyard.
‘How you slept, like a little babe!’ teased Minnie. Minnie had swept the rooms and the courtyard and cooked the morning meal. She had bathed and was ready to go to the temple. She had tied jasmine flowers in her
duppatta
to offer to the gods.
As soon as Minnie left, Malan stretched herself lazily on a charpoy in the courtyard. She was filled with sleep and her head was filled with dreams.
A soft breeze began to blow. Warm sunshine spread in the courtyard. Malan felt like a bowl of milk, full to the brim — with a few petals of jasmine floating on it. It was a strange heady intoxication. Her eyes would close, open, and then close again.
‘O Malan! Where’s that slut?’ cried a voice suddenly. Malan felt as if someone had slapped her face.
‘Never heard of such goings on!’ said another voice, ‘and only four days to her wedding!’
‘What has my daughter done?’ shrieked Malan rising up in anger. ‘She is as innocent as a calf.’
There were derisive exclamations. Then someone sneered, ‘Your little calf has been on the dung heap all night.’
Malan’s body went cold, her life-blood draining from her veins; a deathly pallor spread over her face.
Lajo, her neighbour, was speaking. ‘It was barely dark when the bitch walked off with a stranger. I had got up to relieve myself when I saw them go away into the fields, with their arms entwined around each other’s waists. I didn’t get a wink of sleep. We have to watch the interests of our daughters. I’ve never heard of anyone blacken the faces of her parents in this way.’
Malan sat still as if turned to stone. She did not seem to hear what was being said.
The village watchman took up Lajo’s story.
‘Sister-in-law, Malan,’ he said trying to attract her attention.
‘What is it, Jumma?’ Her voice seemed to come out of the depths of a deep well.
‘Bhabhi,
this is not the sort of thing one can talk about easily. An awful thing happened in the village last night. My hair has gone grey with the years I’ve been watchman of the village, but never have I known such a scandal. Your daughter blackened her face with someone under the bo tree. Twice I passed within ten paces of them. There they were locked together, limb joined to limb; oblivious of all but each other. I kept guard over your house. I said to myself “The wedding is to take place in another four days; the house must be full of new dresses and ornaments and the door wide open!” I left at dawn. I don’t know what time your daughter came back after whoring. If she were my child I would break every bone in her body.’
Malan gazed at the watchman, stunned.
Jumma was followed by Ratna, the
zemindar
. He was in a rage.
‘Where is that slut?’ he roared. ‘Couldn’t she find another field for whoring?’ Ratna leapt about as he spoke. The neighbours came out of their homes to watch and listen. Ratna continued. ‘I was on my way to the well when I saw her come out of the field with her face wrapped in the sequined
duppatta.
I thought that the girl had come out to ease herself; but then her lover emerged from the other end of the same field. I saw them with my own eyes.’
At that moment, Minnie tore her way through the crowd. She had heard all that had been said about her. ‘You are lying, uncle!’ she shrieked.
‘You dare call me a liar, you little trollop! You ill starred wretch! And how did a broken red bangle happen to be in my field?’ He untied the knot in his shawl, took out a piece of red bangle and
Aj Harmon, Christopher Harmon