She dreamed that she had asked, ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ to which he replied, ‘Both.’ Then she whispered to herself, ‘Don’t be greedy!’ She saw her father and brother too—her father holding her hand and telling her something. Kumaresan’s uncles appeared with their angry faces, and vanished. A herd of goats was running towards her. Once they drew near, all of them turned into her mother-in-law. She saw children running and playing on the rock. And Kumaresan was running after them, yelling, ‘Careful, careful!’ Vellapay­yan came to her and said, ‘Were they all born to Kumaresan?’ The old woman, the vegetable vendor, said, ‘You have saved yourself this way. If you hadn’t given birth to them, they’d have killed you long ago.’ Then Velayi appeared and said, ‘Will you tie the sari on me with the pleats in front?’ Someone said furiously, ‘The rules apply to the child too!’ Then she saw many other people she didn’t know, whose faces she couldn’t see clearly. As she lay there, confused and dazed, her famished stomach woke her up.

When she staggered outside the hut, the sun assaulted her face. She lowered her eyes, trying to adjust to the burning glare. The fear that she might fall down if she tried to walk further gripped her. Only after she splashed some cold water on her face did she regain some sense of clarity. She could see the wide expanse of the fields and the palm trees, and hear the cawing of crows. But there was not a single person in sight. No one came to the rock these days. Earlier, even if the visitors only said rude things, at least the sight of their faces provided some relief from the punishing monotony of life here. But not any more. It had been days since she had even heard the footsteps of passers-by.

She recalled her mother-in-law’s rant from her dream: ‘Her arrival has made sure nobody visits us any longer. Who knows what else she is going to deprive us of?’ Or was it not part of the dream? Had Marayi actually said that while Saroja lay faint on the cot inside?