“Wah, a lawyer! Have you looked at your face in the mirror? You have to look sharp, smart, and need many years of studying. It isn’t for you. Like your sisters, if you’re lucky, you’ll be married in a few years. You’re no pundit, scholar, you know.”

“I may not be a pundit, but I want to be a lawyer.”

“All this time I let you go to Sarina’s house thinking you’d do well in your exams and then get a science degree. In these financially challenging times boys prefer an educated girl who can get a good-paying job and work for at least a few years. I’m giving you advice so that you’ll have a bright future. If you go into science, the first boy you meet will say yes.”

“I’m not studying for someone else. I want a career I can enjoy.”

“Career, bareer—doesn’t matter to me! You’ve always done whatever pleases you. At least once, listen to me. I’m only thinking about your future. All I want is to find a good family for you to be married into. These days all I hear is, ‘Everything being equal, science graduates are preferred over any other graduates.’”

Even though I knew what she meant, I asked, “Preferred by whom?”

“By boys and their families.”

“I want someone who wants to marry me for who I am, and not for my degree. If they only value a degree in science, then they should study and earn the degree themselves.”

She stared at me and shook her head. “You can argue your way through a mountain.”

“Exactly! I’ll make a great lawyer.”

“Get admission and you can always change your mind.”

As soon as I got my transcripts I went to Jai Hind College and enrolled in their liberal arts program.

Mohini had gone to Nimita’s house for couple of days. I wanted to go with her, but Nimita’s house was filled with Nupur’s stuff, and there wasn’t enough room for Mohini and me both to be there at the same time.

How I wished Mohini were home so we could go up on the terrace and talk. I thought if Pappa were in town I could’ve talked to him, but lately he was never there when I needed him. It was Mummy who was there, and I wished Mummy and I could understand each other better. Later in the morning, when I went out to buy vegetables, Chiraj insisted on coming with me.

“You and Mummy have a lot of arguments, don’t you?” he asked, when we’d crossed one street from our home.

I didn’t answer and kept on walking, banging into a man carrying a bundle of fabric. He almost dropped it from his hand. “God has given you eyes as big as seashells; why don’t you watch where you’re going?” he sneered.