Though he tried to hide it from her, Saroja could tell that something in him had come undone after that fateful visit to his grandparents’ home. He had expected that his relatives would scold him for his marriage but not actually refuse to help him. He could not believe that they had chased him away. The day they returned from there, Saroja found it impossible to draw him out of his silence. She did not know how to rescue him from the crushing disappointment he was feeling; she did not have words strong enough to do that.

She saw her own assurances failing and crumbling in the face of his troubles while the words that everyone aimed at them continued to land on their targets with great strength and force. Perhaps because she stayed put here on the rock, she was spared the ordeal of encountering too many people. But he roamed around, meeting a lot of people every day. He had no choice but to respond to their invasive queries. To brave their scorn and laughter. Yet, all this while, he had not given her even a hint of these underlying troubles.

But the stench of arrack laid bare the extent of his inner turmoil. She could not tell him anything now. She stopped crying and looked at him. In the light of the lamp, his face was a picture of sadness. She held it tenderly and pulled him close to her chest. It seemed as though he was weeping. Gently caressing his head, she said, ‘Don’t cry. I am here for you.’ Her words gave him something to hold on to. He embraced her tightly, with the fear-filled force of a child who grabs on to his mother, and his whimpers grew louder.

Suddenly, Marayi’s voice shattered the peace like the crack of a whip. ‘What is this new fascination?’ she shouted from outside. ‘He goes into the hut as soon as he comes home and shuts the door. He doesn’t open it even after the day dawns. Exactly what wonder lies inside that hut? What is this new habit?’ Her voice must have travelled the length of at least two or three fields in the dark. She just could not leave them alone in their happiness. She wanted to know everything they said to each other. Even if they whispered inside the hut, she could hear it clearly outside. There could be no secrets here. Even when they spoke very cautiously, they felt like she was standing right outside, listening. During the day, if Kumaresan was at home while Marayi was out, perhaps they could talk then. The nights were unsafe for talking.

When he heard his mother’s voice, Kumaresan pulled away from Saroja’s embrace, rose, tightened his lungi around his waist, and said, ‘Wait. I will be back,’ before stepping out.

Did he have to rush to his mother as soon as he heard her voice? What terrible thing would happen if he made her wait for a little while? What could she do? He was always exceedingly polite to his mother. It looked like he was not drunk any more. Saroja sat motionless in the same spot, listening to the conversation unfolding outside.