elder sister would, even though she was younger.
She remembered Swapna’s words during their recent conversation about Anjali: “Why does he need a relationship with another woman to complete his life, which he claims is already complete?”
Anjali woke up feeling lonelier the next morning.
“Shall try and come again soon,” Siddharth had said while leaving.
She could almost feel his warmth entering her body as Siddharth had held her to him that morning. They had wandered among the crowd at the railway station before the train left Mumbai Central, taking him away from her.
Two months since, everything about him had lingered. His husky voice was still in her ears. His touch was still fresh along her neck. Anjali could almost smell his musky scent. She bit her lips to stop them from quivering at the thought.
Priya was making her bed when Parvati appeared at the door. She looked tired. Without much prompting, she confessed that she was pregnant, the fourth time in her five-year wedded life, though bedded life was probably more appropriate.
The frail woman went from house to house during the day, washing and cleaning for families in the neighbourhood. Her husband allowed her the privilege of earning enough for the whole family. When he was not drunk, he was busy gambling away whatever little Parvati had managed to save.
“Not again,” moaned Priya.
“What can I do? It just happens. It’s God’s will,” Parvati said, quite convinced that the divine was indeed responsible for her situation.
“Why didn’t you listen to me?” Priya stared at her, wasting no tenderness. “Why didn’t you go to the health centre and get yourself sterilised?”
Parvati looked at her pleadingly.
While Priya stared at Parvati in disbelief, Anjali laughed.
“God’s will! Did you hear that, Anjali? This is the first time I’ve heard someone calling a prick God’s will,” she said, laughing uncontrollably. She grinned at Parvati, who rushed out of the room in embarrassment.
Anjali was going to skip work yet again. She had already called in sick twice the week before.
“What is Your Highness doing today?” teased Priya.
“I’m tired. I’ll sleep.”
Anjali tagged along with Priya to the railway station. She could see the trains passing in the distance. They moved towards each other, appearing to join into one long train. Soon, it telescoped into a shorter train before being torn in two, each part heading in opposite directions.
It reminded her of the earthworms that had struggled under her brother’s weapon, a sharpened twig, years ago. Anup was about twelve years old then. He would look up grinning victoriously after tearing up a worm and then watch the pieces crawl away from each other like total strangers.
It must have hurt; those poor creatures. She imagined that the sticky liquid at the injured ends of the worms was earthworm blood.
Anup and his friend Roy would slice the worms, attempting perfection with each new captive, and laughed villainously when the parts behaved like two separate worms. Anup said they were creating two worms out of one, which would then live separate lives.
Other times, the boys would roam about the plantation pursuing various new exploits. They would collect sap from the rubber trees from the halved coconut shells that were tied to the tree trunks. The sap dripped into the shells from the freshly cut wedges. They would roll the tapped rubber into long strips and wind them into the shape of a ball while they were still supple. They had a stink similar to burnt tyre. The ball was heavy and when hit with it, painful.
Anjali tossed her head as if to clear her mind. Memories; why did they keep crowding her mind? Why did she dwell on the past more these days? Something to do with hormones?
Parvati was drying washed clothes on the line when Anjali returned. She sat on the steps at the front door watching the woman hang clothes after squeezing the water out of them.
Parvati should take
She remembered Swapna’s words during their recent conversation about Anjali: “Why does he need a relationship with another woman to complete his life, which he claims is already complete?”
Anjali woke up feeling lonelier the next morning.
“Shall try and come again soon,” Siddharth had said while leaving.
She could almost feel his warmth entering her body as Siddharth had held her to him that morning. They had wandered among the crowd at the railway station before the train left Mumbai Central, taking him away from her.
Two months since, everything about him had lingered. His husky voice was still in her ears. His touch was still fresh along her neck. Anjali could almost smell his musky scent. She bit her lips to stop them from quivering at the thought.
Priya was making her bed when Parvati appeared at the door. She looked tired. Without much prompting, she confessed that she was pregnant, the fourth time in her five-year wedded life, though bedded life was probably more appropriate.
The frail woman went from house to house during the day, washing and cleaning for families in the neighbourhood. Her husband allowed her the privilege of earning enough for the whole family. When he was not drunk, he was busy gambling away whatever little Parvati had managed to save.
“Not again,” moaned Priya.
“What can I do? It just happens. It’s God’s will,” Parvati said, quite convinced that the divine was indeed responsible for her situation.
“Why didn’t you listen to me?” Priya stared at her, wasting no tenderness. “Why didn’t you go to the health centre and get yourself sterilised?”
Parvati looked at her pleadingly.
While Priya stared at Parvati in disbelief, Anjali laughed.
“God’s will! Did you hear that, Anjali? This is the first time I’ve heard someone calling a prick God’s will,” she said, laughing uncontrollably. She grinned at Parvati, who rushed out of the room in embarrassment.
Anjali was going to skip work yet again. She had already called in sick twice the week before.
“What is Your Highness doing today?” teased Priya.
“I’m tired. I’ll sleep.”
Anjali tagged along with Priya to the railway station. She could see the trains passing in the distance. They moved towards each other, appearing to join into one long train. Soon, it telescoped into a shorter train before being torn in two, each part heading in opposite directions.
It reminded her of the earthworms that had struggled under her brother’s weapon, a sharpened twig, years ago. Anup was about twelve years old then. He would look up grinning victoriously after tearing up a worm and then watch the pieces crawl away from each other like total strangers.
It must have hurt; those poor creatures. She imagined that the sticky liquid at the injured ends of the worms was earthworm blood.
Anup and his friend Roy would slice the worms, attempting perfection with each new captive, and laughed villainously when the parts behaved like two separate worms. Anup said they were creating two worms out of one, which would then live separate lives.
Other times, the boys would roam about the plantation pursuing various new exploits. They would collect sap from the rubber trees from the halved coconut shells that were tied to the tree trunks. The sap dripped into the shells from the freshly cut wedges. They would roll the tapped rubber into long strips and wind them into the shape of a ball while they were still supple. They had a stink similar to burnt tyre. The ball was heavy and when hit with it, painful.
Anjali tossed her head as if to clear her mind. Memories; why did they keep crowding her mind? Why did she dwell on the past more these days? Something to do with hormones?
Parvati was drying washed clothes on the line when Anjali returned. She sat on the steps at the front door watching the woman hang clothes after squeezing the water out of them.
Parvati should take
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