‘We did come to watch, didn’t we? When the newly wedded couple arrived, did we come with a plate of arati to welcome them? That’s why he said those things.’

‘His own mother is singing a funeral song. Look at her, lying like a slain peacock. What would she have said if we had run and welcomed them?’

Finally, one of the men said, ‘All right, all right. Leave the couple alone and go mind your business, all of you. We can discuss everything later.’

The crowd dispersed slowly. Kumaresan was exhausted. He tried to sleep. Saroja opened her eyes a little to look at him. Then she closed them again and feigned sleep.

‘Wife on the cot, husband on the mat. Isn’t this wonderful!’ said someone who had, clearly, peeped into the hut.

Saroja had been trembling all this while. She curled up tightly to control her shudders, desperate to lose all sense of place and fall into a deep sleep. But her thoughts did not leave her in peace. She had not imagined that this village would be like this, or that its people would behave this way. She had assumed that people everywhere were like the people in Tholur. Kumaresan had not told her otherwise. She did not even fully understand the way they spoke here, the expressions they used. Their questions did not make complete sense to her.

Kumaresan’s hand was the magic carpet that had brought her to a strange land. Perhaps they could have spent a little time in Malayappatti. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Why did he trust his people so much? She couldn’t help but feel that it was a mistake on her part to have come with him without her father’s and brother’s knowledge. She had come hoping she would be happy with the man she loved. Her brother had told her that he was planning to marry her to a colleague of his. That’s why she had hurried Kumaresan. And as though he had only been waiting for her to ask, he had planned everything in an instant. Perhaps they should have waited a little longer, understood more about what awaited them. These difficulties would not end today. How long would they go on for, she wondered. None of this would have happened if Kumaresan had not gone to Tholur. Why did he?

THREE

Bhai Anna, the man who bought and sold eggs in the area, had stayed at Kumaresan’s house one night some time ago.

He came to the village twice a week. If he couldn’t finish his work on the day he arrived, he would go to the rock and spend the night in Kumaresan’s house. He was happy to stay there, especially if it was the time of the waxing moon. In summer, he never slept inside the hut, but on a cot outside on the rock, gazing at the open sky. This was how he lived. In a different place every day. He was welcome throughout the neighbourhood; wherever he went people offered him a cot to sleep on. Bhai Anna was full of stories. He had roamed around countless towns and villages for many years, and met all sorts of people. How could he not have stories to tell?