Once in a long while Kumaresan’s mother cooked a meaty gravy with goats’ legs. Before going to bed at night, she would chop the legs into small pieces, add pepper and other spices, bring the mixture to a boil, douse the fire and put a lid on the vessel. In the morning, she would boil it again. The mixture acquired a slightly burnt smell in the process. Then she would make the gravy with it. The soup he got here had no such burnt smell. When he could get all this here, why did he need to go home? It would take over fifteen days for his wounds to heal and for the sutures to be removed. He would not survive without seeing Saroja for so long. That was the main reason why he refused to take a break and go home to the village.

Thinking back to those days gave Saroja and Kumaresan so much pleasure that their eyes acquired a dreamy, faraway look. Those were the days when they had glowed in the light of their happiness. Periyasami came to the shop every now and then, and Kumaresan sat with him until he filled the bottles and left with them on his rounds. At all other times, he stayed right under the tree that was in the common courtyard. From there, he could see everything Saroja did. He was amazed at how much work she had to do in that one room that was her home. Yet she managed to effortlessly get everything done and also, somehow, communicate with him with her eyes.

The radio was always on. The film Graamatthu ­Atthiyaayam—The Village Chapter—had been released recently. At least one song from the film played on any one of the broadcast channels at least once a day. The song ‘Aathu maettula oru paattu kaetkuthu’ that Malaysia Vasudevan and S. Janaki had sung became very famous. It came on the radio at least two or three times a day. The moment S. Janaki’s voice began with ‘Mm . . . gumm gumm . . . mm . . . gumm gumm,’ both Kumaresan and Saroja would get excited. Kumaresan would sit up on his cot, turning his gaze now and then towards her house. And, somehow, she made an appearance every time he looked in that direction.

They felt like the song was playing just for them. There was a line in the song about laying a cot in a forest. Whenever he heard that line, Kumaresan would subtly indicate the cot with his eyes, and she would bite her lip shyly and vanish behind the door before timidly reappearing. Towards the end of the song, there was a verse about the hero’s raging desire to carry the heroine away with him. Whenever he listened to those lines, Kumaresan’s face took on a strange glow and he kept staring at Saroja. He looked away only if something distracted him from his preoccupation. For the two of them, it was as though the song conveyed all that they wanted to tell each other.