That night, Kumaresan did not return at the time he usually did. It had grown dark and lamps were lit everywhere. Saroja was anxious about him and could not focus on her work. Perhaps someone from his village had heard about the accident and come to take him back? If that had happened, would he return? Perhaps she could ask the people next door if they knew something. Was that the meaning of Parvati’s smile? That Parvati was a shrewd one; she must have observed everything. Was she trying to tell Saroja with her smile that Kumaresan had left? No, it couldn’t be. If he was going to leave, he would have somehow given her a sign. She was certain that just as she could not live without seeing him, he too could not survive without seeing her. He must definitely have heard the sound of her ‘Hmm’. Even if it had not reached his ears, it would certainly have resounded in his heart. That ‘Hmm’ would stop him from going away anywhere.

Perhaps Periyasami has taken him to the hospital. Was it time for the sutures to be removed? If that was the case, she wouldn’t see him under the tree so much any more. She certainly wanted him to get well soon. But she could not help but wonder how things would be if the sutures were not removed just yet.

NINE

NINE

Ever since the debacle at his appucchi’s home three days ago, Kumaresan had not spent much time in his hut.

He had finalized an arrangement with a shop that sold soda. It was in Virichipalayam, some distance away from Senkundroor. Being further away, the commute by bicycle was going to be difficult, but he told Saroja that that was the closest decent shop he could find. He would have to collect soda bottles from this particular shop and deliver them to thirteen smaller street-corner shops. Since all the shops were in different villages, it was unlikely that they would run out of soda bottles quickly. This allowed Kumaresan to divide his task between roughly four villages per day. That way, he could visit each shop once in three days.

There were also two weekly fairs where he could deliver soda. And if there was a temple festival going on somewhere, he could get business there too. Some ten or fifteen people had won the right to sell soda and coloured cold drinks on the Senkundroor hill in an auction. If he allied with them, he might be able to sell bottles there next year. In those places, one would have to snare people’s attention by yelling, ‘Colouraeeee, colour colouraeee!’ and ‘Sodaaa colouraee! Sodaaa colouraee!’ During the Tuesday fairs in Senkundroor, he had seen sellers standing next to their bicycles, carrying bottles and raising their voices in the same way. He could learn to do that too.