Not knowing what to do, she spent the following day just like she spent her nights—after sitting under the tree next to the rock, she lay tossing and turning on the cot inside the hut. Having someone drop by just to make fun of her or hurl abuses at her would be preferable to this isolation, she thought restlessly. Even a visit from Vellapayyan would be welcome—anyone, as long as it kept her from worrying about her husband. But there were no visitors that day. It was only when Kumaresan returned at night that Saroja’s day dawned. But seeing him so dejected, sitting with his head bowed, his hand reaching distractedly for the food on his plate, she could not help but burst into tears. When he realized why she was crying, he came and sat next to her.

‘Don’t cry,’ he coaxed, bringing his face next to hers.

That was when she smelled the stench. Until that moment, she had never smelled arrack on him. She did not know that he drank alcohol. Was this a new habit? Everything about his place was foreign to her, and now he too was appearing in a new light. What else would she have to see? The thought only made her weep more.

‘I was feeling very sad. That’s why I drank a little. Only once in a while,’ he blabbered incoherently.

She felt as though all her certainties were collapsing. What would happen if things continued like this? Suddenly, she removed the gold chain from around her neck and gave it to him. It was two sovereigns’ worth. ‘If you need money for the shop,’ she said, crying, ‘then sell this and use the money. But if you come home drunk, I will die.’

‘No, no!’ he slurred. ‘Keep it . . . keep it. That is all you have left. I won’t take that away from you. I will make everything all right. I . . . I won’t drink again. Okay? Now, please smile, please.’

And he embraced her. Memories came tumbling over her, and she cried again.

It seemed like her mother-in-law had no desire to get along. She did not expect any affection from Marayi—she wanted only words that did not sting and hurt. Yet every word that Marayi said mauled Saroja’s heart. When Kumaresan was away, what did she have to look forward to? Spending her time on a rock that trapped the day’s infernal heat, with only her mother-in-law’s hurtful barbs for company?

Earlier that day, while sitting in the shade of the tree, Saroja had seen Velayi, from the adjacent field, walk past the rock, carrying an earthen pot.

‘Are you going to get some drinking water?’ Marayi asked her.

‘Yes, athai,’ answered Velayi. ‘I just came back home herding the goats and saw that there was not a drop of water left. The pot was completely empty.’ Then her voice turned angry. ‘The planets are against me. All these cursed Saturns in my house, wreaking their vengeance, souring my luck. There has been no respite. If only they would have some consideration for other people’s needs.’