He booked a lodge near the Aurangabad depot. He tried explaining to Shanti throughout the day that the village was destroyed forever. She had to be courageous to start a new life. The untimely and sudden demise of her parents was the worst sorrow of her life. Tears flowed down her cheeks constantly. Ashok would try to hug and console her. She kept weeping for three to four days. On the fifth day Ashok took her out for a visit to a historical monument in Aurangabad and bought her two new frocks and a maxi. He took her to a nice restaurant. They returned to the lodge in the evening.

After a while Ashok told her that he was going out for some work. Till then she was to bathe and change into fresh clothes. Shanti had grown up. She blushed at her own image in the mirror clad in the brightly coloured frock. She combed and parted her hair. She stared at that parting and wondered how fortunate she would be if Ashok put vermilion in this parting and made her his wife. This elated her grief-stricken heart. She liked him. Ashok had graduated four years back and was a contract clerk at a government office. Shanti had felt that Ashok looked at her through the eyes of a man rather than her uncle. He had many times stared at her body with the eyes of a hungry lion. As it is, a lot of women in Maharashtra got married at a very young age. Marriage between uncles and nieces was also common among some tribes and communities. Shanti, dressed in her new frock, lay on the bed. She had already slept by the time Ashok returned. Ashok had got rice, kebabs and Pepsi from outside. Seeing Shanti fast asleep he took out a Romanov vodka bottle and mixed it with Pepsi. Romanov vodka was his favourite drink since college days.

Shanti woke up in short while. She sat up. Ashok smiled and said, ‘It’s good that you took some rest.’

She got up and went to the bathroom. She washed her face, redid her hair and moved closer to the bed. She looked at herself in the mirror. ‘You look pretty in this frock,’ Ashok complimented her. Shanti blushed but did not reply and kept looking at the mirror and putting clips in her hair. ‘Did you hear what I just said? You look pretty in the frock.’ She turned and replied, ‘I am so dark, do not make fun of me, Uncle.’

‘Arre pagal! Who said that you are dark? You are just like Sridevi.’