was with her; she was putting ice into a glass for Silvi, who was nervous and thirsty.
There was nothing to do. They waited. Maya crouched stub- bornly in front of the radio; Sabeer paced the drawing room, pulling aside curtains, opening and closing windows. Silvi perched on the sofa, rocking back and forth on her hands. Mr Sengupta lit a thin brown cigarillo.
Finally Mrs Chowdhury rose from her chair as though she had just had a revelation.
‘There’s going to be trouble, lots of trouble,’ she said to Sabeer. The pitch of her voice told Rehana she was about to make an announcement. ‘You know it. I want you to make sure nothing will happen to my daughter.’
‘Your daughter will be safe.’ ‘How can you be sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure.’ He turned to Silvi, who nodded silently into the floor.
‘But what if something happens to you? What if they come for her?’
‘Who?’
‘Who knows? People! The army!’ And she collapsed again into the chair.
‘Ma,’ Sabeer said, ‘nothing will happen to Silvi.’
‘There’s only one way to be sure. You must marry her tonight.’
‘ Marry? ’
57
‘You don’t understand, you’re just a child, but I’ve been through things like this. The thing to do is to make sure all the unmarried girls are safe. You think this gate will keep the hood- lums out?’ Mrs Chowdhury’s voice climbed to a shaky trill.
Rehana saw her whispering something to the Lieutenant. She pointed to Silvi, hung her head, raised it, raised her finger, brought a handkerchief to her eyes. The Lieutenant nodded dis- tractedly, patting Mrs Chowdhury’s shoulder.
By midnight the shelling had slowed to a few staccato beats in the distance. Mrs Chowdhury ushered Sohail and Rehana to the kitchen. ‘Sohail, I need you,’ she said. ‘Silvi needs to get married right away. You have to witness. There have to be two men. Mr Sengupta will be the other witness. It isn’t exactly right, but we’ll have to make do.’
‘Mrs Chowdhury,’ Rehana said, ‘is this really the time?’ Her head spun with the absurdity of it.
‘Of course this is the time. What better time is there? There may be no other time. No time left! What if the Lieutenant doesn’t return for months? What if he dies ?’ And then: ‘Why don’t you select a few verses, Rehana? You read so well.’
As soon as Mrs Chowdhury left to change Silvi into a fresh sari, Maya muttered, ‘This is ridiculous – you’d think Silvi would have more sense.’
Rehana reached for the shelf where she knew Silvi kept the Holy Book. ‘Help me get it down, Sohail.’
‘I don’t love her any more,’ Sohail said, as if she had asked him a question. And then he said, ‘I stopped loving her the moment I heard about the soldier.’
Rehana kept silent but Maya looked up sharply, a challenge in the set of her mouth.
‘I don’t believe in violence,’ Sohail announced, as though the two women he was addressing were new acquaintances. ‘I can’t support any kind of violence. And anyway it’s her choice. Women must be allowed to choose for themselves.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Maya said; ‘you know she just buckled under the pressure. Really, the girl is very weak.’
58
‘Shut up,’ Sohail said.
Maya rolled her eyes and returned to the radio. ‘You go. I’m not having anything to do with this charade.’
Rehana opened the Holy Book.
Again Silvi and Sabeer were seated on the double sofa. Again Silvi looked down into her lap. Rehana could see her lip trem- bling, and she wanted to run over to the girl and ask her if she was sure, very sure she wanted to marry the Lieutenant, but just as she was about to cross the room, Silvi, in one of those rare interruptions to her sobriety, flashed a wide, toothy smile. The smile was for her mother, Rehana knew, but it worked to silence the doubts that were circulating around the room.
‘Sohail,’ Silvi said, louder than she needed to, ‘why don’t you take a photograph?’
‘Do you have a camera?’
There was nothing to do. They waited. Maya crouched stub- bornly in front of the radio; Sabeer paced the drawing room, pulling aside curtains, opening and closing windows. Silvi perched on the sofa, rocking back and forth on her hands. Mr Sengupta lit a thin brown cigarillo.
Finally Mrs Chowdhury rose from her chair as though she had just had a revelation.
‘There’s going to be trouble, lots of trouble,’ she said to Sabeer. The pitch of her voice told Rehana she was about to make an announcement. ‘You know it. I want you to make sure nothing will happen to my daughter.’
‘Your daughter will be safe.’ ‘How can you be sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure.’ He turned to Silvi, who nodded silently into the floor.
‘But what if something happens to you? What if they come for her?’
‘Who?’
‘Who knows? People! The army!’ And she collapsed again into the chair.
‘Ma,’ Sabeer said, ‘nothing will happen to Silvi.’
‘There’s only one way to be sure. You must marry her tonight.’
‘ Marry? ’
57
‘You don’t understand, you’re just a child, but I’ve been through things like this. The thing to do is to make sure all the unmarried girls are safe. You think this gate will keep the hood- lums out?’ Mrs Chowdhury’s voice climbed to a shaky trill.
Rehana saw her whispering something to the Lieutenant. She pointed to Silvi, hung her head, raised it, raised her finger, brought a handkerchief to her eyes. The Lieutenant nodded dis- tractedly, patting Mrs Chowdhury’s shoulder.
By midnight the shelling had slowed to a few staccato beats in the distance. Mrs Chowdhury ushered Sohail and Rehana to the kitchen. ‘Sohail, I need you,’ she said. ‘Silvi needs to get married right away. You have to witness. There have to be two men. Mr Sengupta will be the other witness. It isn’t exactly right, but we’ll have to make do.’
‘Mrs Chowdhury,’ Rehana said, ‘is this really the time?’ Her head spun with the absurdity of it.
‘Of course this is the time. What better time is there? There may be no other time. No time left! What if the Lieutenant doesn’t return for months? What if he dies ?’ And then: ‘Why don’t you select a few verses, Rehana? You read so well.’
As soon as Mrs Chowdhury left to change Silvi into a fresh sari, Maya muttered, ‘This is ridiculous – you’d think Silvi would have more sense.’
Rehana reached for the shelf where she knew Silvi kept the Holy Book. ‘Help me get it down, Sohail.’
‘I don’t love her any more,’ Sohail said, as if she had asked him a question. And then he said, ‘I stopped loving her the moment I heard about the soldier.’
Rehana kept silent but Maya looked up sharply, a challenge in the set of her mouth.
‘I don’t believe in violence,’ Sohail announced, as though the two women he was addressing were new acquaintances. ‘I can’t support any kind of violence. And anyway it’s her choice. Women must be allowed to choose for themselves.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Maya said; ‘you know she just buckled under the pressure. Really, the girl is very weak.’
58
‘Shut up,’ Sohail said.
Maya rolled her eyes and returned to the radio. ‘You go. I’m not having anything to do with this charade.’
Rehana opened the Holy Book.
Again Silvi and Sabeer were seated on the double sofa. Again Silvi looked down into her lap. Rehana could see her lip trem- bling, and she wanted to run over to the girl and ask her if she was sure, very sure she wanted to marry the Lieutenant, but just as she was about to cross the room, Silvi, in one of those rare interruptions to her sobriety, flashed a wide, toothy smile. The smile was for her mother, Rehana knew, but it worked to silence the doubts that were circulating around the room.
‘Sohail,’ Silvi said, louder than she needed to, ‘why don’t you take a photograph?’
‘Do you have a camera?’
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