Lalita had not given in. She had said no. Smita feels proud of her daughter. This six-year-old child, barely taller than the stool the schoolmaster sat on, had looked the Brahmin in the eyes and said, ‘No.’ He had caught hold of her and caned her in the middle of the class, in front of all the others. Lalita hadn’t cried, hadn’t shouted out, she hadn’t made a sound. The bell had rung for the midday break. The Brahmin had denied Lalita her meal, he had confiscated the little metal tin that Smita had prepared for her. The little girl was not even allowed to sit, only to watch the others eat. She had not protested, not begged. She had stood alone, and dignified. Yes, Smita is proud of her daughter. She may eat rat-meat, but she is stronger than all the Brahmins and the Jatts put together. They will not tame her, they will never break her spirit. They had struck with the cane, striped her back with scars, but she was still there. Self-possessed. Intact.

Nagarajan does not agree with his wife: Lalita should have given in, taken the broom, that’s not such a bad thing to have to do, a few swishes of the broom – less painful than the swishes of the cane …

Smita explodes. How can he say such a thing? School is where children go to learn, not sweep the floors. She’ll go and talk to him, that Brahmin, she knows where he lives, she knows the hidden door at the back of his house, she goes in that way every day with her rush basket to clean out his filth … Nagarajan stops her: there is nothing to be gained by confronting the Brahmin. He is so much more powerful than her. Everyone is more powerful than her. Lalita must accept the bullying, if she wants to go back to school. It’s the price she must pay if she is to learn to read and write. That’s how it is in this world. You can’t break out of your caste and go unpunished.

Smita glares at her husband. She is trembling with rage. She will not let her child become the Brahmin’s scapegoat. How could Nagarajan even think such a thing? He should be defending her, making a stand, fighting for his daughter against the whole world.

‘Isn’t that what a father does?’

Smita would rather die than send Lalita back to school; Lalita will not set foot there again. Smita curses a society that crushes its weakest members, its women, its children, the very people it should protect.