He did not go anywhere the following day; he stayed back so that he could console her. Once his mother went away herding the goats, he closed the thatched flap which served as a door to the hut, and came and lay beside Saroja on the cot. He tried to comfort her with his body, but her fears, which had vanished in those moments of intimacy, rushed back as soon as it was over, and took hold of her. She kept crying; she had not cried like that ever before.

The day after that, he suggested, ‘Let’s go out somewhere. Come on.’

She did not want to oblige him immediately. She just wanted to tell him forcefully that she did not want to go anywhere. However, she was afraid he might leave without her, so after a while she agreed and got dressed slowly. She wore a light green sari, but she did not apply anything on her face. At least her mother-in-law wouldn’t be able to call her an erukku shrub now. But in truth, it was not the thought of what his mother would say that stopped her from wearing any make-up. She simply did not feel like it. Why should I, she asked herself. Am I getting ready to go and dance in public?

Kumaresan knew the kind of preparations she usually made before leaving the house. The idea of going out always brought her alive like a new bloom. Her entire appearance would shine with freshness. It was enough to make him stop everything and stare at her for a whole day. So her obvious lack of interest right now saddened him.

‘What? Is that it?’ he asked her pleadingly.

She wanted to say, ‘This is enough for an erukku shrub growing in the graveyard,’ but she stopped herself. He would have been happier if she had put a little more effort into dressing herself up. No one had found fault with her looks so far. In fact they said things like, ‘Look at his good fortune. He has found a girl who sparkles like gold.’ It made him beam with pride. She wondered if he was not worried that her plain appearance today might chip away some of that pride.

‘Please don’t let yourself be affected by the things people say,’ he said again. ‘You should continue to be the way you have always been. Everything will be all right.’

She did not feel like talking much. ‘Hmm,’ was all she said.

Her father used to say, ‘My daughter’s complexion takes after my mother. Who else in our family is so fair-skinned? She is a piece of gold.’ After all that had happened, it was her fair skin that seemed to be earning her some respect. She had even begun to doubt if Kumaresan’s attentions would have drifted towards her had it not been for her complexion. But the colour of her skin was not going to be enough to survive in this village. She needed a lot more than that. The right caste, more than anything. That is what everyone asked her: ‘What is your caste?’ Kumaresan had told her very clearly to not say anything about her caste and that he would handle those queries. But now even he struggled in the face of such questions. How much worse would things get?