‘How’s the backlog coming along, Tokas? We need to get at least 500 police verifications done today or the regional passport office will be very unhappy. I’ve promised them we’ll work Sundays to help. There are citizens waiting for their passports. Please don’t make me look bad,’ the ASI smiles.

‘Yes yes sir, backlog happening—Ravinder and Davinder have been working all morning crossing out the ones we’ve done. I’ve ensured they get it done quickly,’ Tokas says.

‘Ah, is that so? Since they are doing the clearing and you’re free, could you get us four cups of tea? Make that five, you have one as well,’ the ASI says.

‘I am afraid I can only offer you ladies thela chai here, it’s a bit too sweet but tasty,’ he says to all of us women and smiles.

He points to the bench for Mini and Simmi to sit on and pulls two chairs for the two of us. We sit in a rather informal circle. No one says a word till the tea arrives. Tokas offers us the tea—grudgingly—and then stands behind the ASI.

I gladly pick up the cup and take a sip. It’s very sweet. I notice that neither Mini nor Simmi have touched their cups. The ASI notices too.

‘Sa’ab,’ Mini says looking straight into the officer’s eyes, ‘I beat him but—’

‘Chai pee leejiye pehle, have your tea first, tea makes talking easier,’ the man says and gently pushes the cup towards Mini.

She barely touches the cup to her lips and then just sits with it—she looks at the officer beseechingly.

He sighs, takes a sip and says, ‘Please tell me. Perhaps talking will make drinking easier for you.’

‘I was married when I was sixteen. Simmi’s papa is fifteen years older to me. He always had his eye on me but he also had a reputation for drinking. He offered to pay off my father’s debt if I was married to him. On our wedding night he beat me up for not warming his milk properly. He hasn’t stopped beating me since,’ Mini says in a clear voice.

‘I thought children would change things—but I produced only girls. My daughters are better than any son to me, I love them and they are good girls. He loved his first child, Simmi here, but after the third daughter was born—he hated them all and he hated me the most. He thought I was humiliating him by not giving him a son. He drank more and he beat me more under some pretext or the other. I kept quiet. I have three daughters to look after. But last night—’ Mini stops talking and I notice her hands are shaking.

There are tears running down Simmi’s face and she’s staring at her mother with absolute devotion.