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Authors: Shobhan Bantwal
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me down to a bed of wood and burn me to death.” The dread in her voice had lessened after the weeping fit, she realized. Now it sounded hollow, devoid of emotion, her gaze dispassionate, as if she were looking on the scene of her own execution and yet completely removed from it, like watching it happen to a stranger.
Though hovering on the brink of a furious outburst, Kiran kept his rage under control. Megha needed him, needed his strength and sympathy. She had come here looking for protection and support. Giving in to the urge to go on a ferocious tirade against his aunt and cousin would do nothing to dispel Megha’s fears and misery. So he held his own emotions tightly restrained.
As he pictured the gruesome scene in his mind, Kiran shuddered inwardly. Thousands of young brides perished each year in India because of dowry, or the lack of it—heartlessly killed—some crushed to death, some thrown out of high buildings, others strangled or poisoned, many burned like so much refuse. How could one human being do that to another? In this day and age, in a middle-class, educated family no less? How could his aunt and cousin dream of doing that to a sweet, innocent daughter of the house? And all that, for money. How sickening!
Well, he wouldn’t let those monsters succeed. Never! He glanced at Megha, suddenly feeling possessive and custodial of her. “Shh, try not to think about it.”
She raised her gaze to him, her exquisite eyes still damp and rimmed with red. “Kiran, why are you being so supportive of me?”
Kiran asked himself the same question. Though he knew the answer, of course—he was in love with her. Was this a good time to be honest about that with Megha? Probably not. She was too distraught and fragile to handle that kind of confession from him at the moment. On the other hand, he couldn’t altogether lie to her either. “Because I care…you’re family, Megha,” he said finally, making it sound harmless without being dishonest.
“But I’m the outsider. The Ramnaths are your family.”
“That’s not the issue here. This is a matter of life and death—your life. In fact, I was hoping Amma was planning on getting Suresh to divorce you.”
“You were?” She stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown an extra pair of ears. “Why would you want to see your cousin divorced?”
“Because I…uh…realized you were being mistreated in that house.”
Her expression looked uncertain. “How did you guess that?”
Kiran chided himself privately for his outburst. It had only served to make her suspicious of him. But part of the truth had slipped out and there was nothing he could do to take it back. At least he’d had enough sense not to confess his deeper, more personal feelings for her. It was time for some damage control. “It didn’t take much to guess, Megha,” he said. “I’ve watched you wither away under Amma’s thumb and Suresh’s weakness.”
“How? You were only a visitor.”
“I’m not blind. I noticed the way Amma treated you and how Suresh never lifted a finger to defend you. Despite the smile on your face at all times, you’ve lost weight and there are dark shadows around your eyes—you weren’t like this when you first got married. I could tell you were unhappy with the Ramnaths. I came to the conclusion that divorce would be your only way out of there.”
“Hmm.” She continued to look skeptical.
“You could have done a hell of a lot better than having Suresh for a husband. I can’t imagine why your father turned you over to him.”
“I think the Ramnaths lied to my parents about a lot of things. My father was told Suresh earned a high salary and the family was cultured and well-off.”
“Is there no end to Amma’s deceit?” Kiran groaned. “I’m convinced you should get a divorce, Megha. I’ll help you in any way I can.”
She turned to him again, her expression hopeless. “But you can’t really help me all that much, Kiran. Suresh and Amma
Though hovering on the brink of a furious outburst, Kiran kept his rage under control. Megha needed him, needed his strength and sympathy. She had come here looking for protection and support. Giving in to the urge to go on a ferocious tirade against his aunt and cousin would do nothing to dispel Megha’s fears and misery. So he held his own emotions tightly restrained.
As he pictured the gruesome scene in his mind, Kiran shuddered inwardly. Thousands of young brides perished each year in India because of dowry, or the lack of it—heartlessly killed—some crushed to death, some thrown out of high buildings, others strangled or poisoned, many burned like so much refuse. How could one human being do that to another? In this day and age, in a middle-class, educated family no less? How could his aunt and cousin dream of doing that to a sweet, innocent daughter of the house? And all that, for money. How sickening!
Well, he wouldn’t let those monsters succeed. Never! He glanced at Megha, suddenly feeling possessive and custodial of her. “Shh, try not to think about it.”
She raised her gaze to him, her exquisite eyes still damp and rimmed with red. “Kiran, why are you being so supportive of me?”
Kiran asked himself the same question. Though he knew the answer, of course—he was in love with her. Was this a good time to be honest about that with Megha? Probably not. She was too distraught and fragile to handle that kind of confession from him at the moment. On the other hand, he couldn’t altogether lie to her either. “Because I care…you’re family, Megha,” he said finally, making it sound harmless without being dishonest.
“But I’m the outsider. The Ramnaths are your family.”
“That’s not the issue here. This is a matter of life and death—your life. In fact, I was hoping Amma was planning on getting Suresh to divorce you.”
“You were?” She stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown an extra pair of ears. “Why would you want to see your cousin divorced?”
“Because I…uh…realized you were being mistreated in that house.”
Her expression looked uncertain. “How did you guess that?”
Kiran chided himself privately for his outburst. It had only served to make her suspicious of him. But part of the truth had slipped out and there was nothing he could do to take it back. At least he’d had enough sense not to confess his deeper, more personal feelings for her. It was time for some damage control. “It didn’t take much to guess, Megha,” he said. “I’ve watched you wither away under Amma’s thumb and Suresh’s weakness.”
“How? You were only a visitor.”
“I’m not blind. I noticed the way Amma treated you and how Suresh never lifted a finger to defend you. Despite the smile on your face at all times, you’ve lost weight and there are dark shadows around your eyes—you weren’t like this when you first got married. I could tell you were unhappy with the Ramnaths. I came to the conclusion that divorce would be your only way out of there.”
“Hmm.” She continued to look skeptical.
“You could have done a hell of a lot better than having Suresh for a husband. I can’t imagine why your father turned you over to him.”
“I think the Ramnaths lied to my parents about a lot of things. My father was told Suresh earned a high salary and the family was cultured and well-off.”
“Is there no end to Amma’s deceit?” Kiran groaned. “I’m convinced you should get a divorce, Megha. I’ll help you in any way I can.”
She turned to him again, her expression hopeless. “But you can’t really help me all that much, Kiran. Suresh and Amma
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