Kumaresan had not told Saroja where in Vairipalayam he was taking her. When she asked him all he said was, ‘Come with me. You will soon find out.’ She did not press him further.

They left after his mother took the goats to graze. Saroja rode with Kumaresan, sitting behind him on his bicycle; she was aware of the prying, inquisitive eyes of those whom they passed. If she heard voices, she thought they were talking about her. She was also afraid that Kumaresan might stop the bicycle to talk to the people who were hailing him. He did reply to their queries but kept pedalling on.

Some people smiled at the young couple. But Saroja did not like those cheerful faces. There was a lot hidden behind those expressions. They insinuated, mockingly, that Saroja was superior to them. For the first time in her life, Saroja was encountering smiles she could not trust.

She heard someone say, ‘Look at the bride and groom going together as a couple. I have not seen a sight like this before.’ Another voice, a man’s, commented, ‘Oh, you are going for a film during the day? Nice. Would you have been able to do any of this if you had married within the caste? You are lucky. We are not so fortunate, Nōndi . . .’ It felt as though that voice kept following her. She could not bring herself to hold her head high, so she sat with her eyes lowered. It was only after they reached the tarred road that her fears went away.

The shade of the tamarind trees on either side of the road comforted her. At any other time, the sight of these trees—standing so close to each other, blocking the sunlight from reaching the road—would have scared her. But now she was surprised and reassured by it. There was no one else on the road. A canopied road, she thought. One wouldn’t find a road like this in Tholur. The trees reached out with their arms from both sides of the road, as though holding her in an embrace. There was a warmth in the gentle breeze, but it still brought respite from all the stuffiness.

She asked him gently, ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘Tell me where you want to go. I’ll take you there.’

‘I only want to go back to my house. Take me there and leave me.’

‘Did I go through all this trouble just to take you back? Tell me some other place you want to visit.’

‘I have come away with you. I will have to go wherever you take me.’

‘That’s a good girl.’

They came to a steep upward slope on the road. Struggling to make the climb, he hoisted himself above the seat and pedalled forcefully, but he did not ask her to climb down from the bicycle and walk even once.

‘Stop,’ she said eventually. ‘Let us get down and push the bicycle up the slope.’

It seemed he took that as an insult. ‘I can do this,’ he insisted, putting even more effort into the pedalling. ‘If I can’t pedal with you on the bicycle, how will I do it later with the weight of the soda bottles?’