‘They have come to commiserate, as if some big thing has happened,’ Kumaresan said to Saroja, and laughed. Then he whispered in her ear, ‘Here, when we say “big thing”, we mean a death.’

But she could not enjoy the joke. Her face darkened, and she stared at him. He tapped her chin gently with a forefinger, said, ‘Everything will be all right,’ and moved away. She could accept that.

That morning, Kumaresan had left after eating. He had told her he wanted to meet some people to discuss the possibilities of setting up a soda shop in the area. A few visitors trickled in after he left. Knowing that this would happen, he had said to her, ‘You are an object of wonder for the entire village, not just for me. People might even come in bullock carts from nearby villages just to see you. Don’t open your mouth and say anything to any of them. Otherwise they’ll surely poke and prod and somehow get all the information from you. We should let this unfolding drama die down before we speak. Only then will we be heard. Be very careful.’

Saroja shuddered every time she heard a voice, and her hands and feet went cold. So she remained inside the hut. Marayi was up from her cot that day, so all the visitors went to see her. She was moving about, murmuring something constantly. To Saroja’s ears it sounded just like the rustle of the thatched screens, full of meanings she could not decipher. And precisely for that reason, it filled her with fear. Even when she tried to focus her hearing and listen carefully, the words slipped away from her.

Marayi raved and ranted to the visitors. ‘He has brought a hen and kept her hidden in a basket in the hut. Who knows if she’ll lay eggs and incubate them, or if they’ll all simply rot? I lay here all day yesterday, but no one asked me if I even wanted a drink of water. Still, I have this little stomach to feed. That is why I am up and about today. If death comes to me quickly, then I won’t have to witness all these last rites being done to me even while I am alive! The god of death who took away my husband—who knows when he will come for me?’

Some of the visitors gathered right outside the hut where Saroja was, and forced her to step out: ‘Hey, girl, come outside. We have come just to see you, haven’t we? And there you are, hiding inside Nōndi’s loincloth!’

Like a scared little cat, she peered outside the hut and showed them her face. One of the women held Saroja’s chin and tilted her face, saying, ‘Her face is pale and she looks like someone who is dying of hunger. Is this who Kumaresan has caught and brought here! She doesn’t look like she can cook even for two people. In days of harvest, will she be able to do some weeding, or pick grains, or pluck fruits?’ The woman went on and on.