She saw him smile at her. He patted the bed for Rajjo to join in.

With a calm that rose from deep inside, Rajjo knew she had to step forward and embrace the pain. If she had to survive, she had to be the first to move. She quietly turned round to shut the door, only to see a sweet smiling face standing by the door with a glass of milk.

‘I put the milk in the other room by mistake, and I am Kesar. I studied till class one and if I had continued I would have been in class three. Now I study in the evenings.’

His twinkling eyes smiled with affection. He reminded her of her sister Rano back home. A lump formed in her throat as she took the hot glass and turned around to keep it on the table. With a deadpan expression she shut the door on the face of the sweet little boy.

‘If you need anything just let me know…’

Could she ask for two spoons of death from a little boy in blue shorts and rubber slippers. Perhaps not yet!

6

November 1990

THE year was coming to an end. It was November already. A lot was happening in the world, but Rajjo’s life could be best described as indeterminate. She filled in the hours and lived the daily journey from sunrise to sunset.

She tried to remind herself that living with Seth-ji had its own advantages. For instance, she had her own TV and unlike in her village she had access to news 24X7. She watched a special report on the state-run channel, Doordarshan, where a news presenter reported the resignation of V.P. Singh and the anointment of Chandra Shekhar as the eighth prime minister of the country.

Lately, Seth-ji was also talking about getting a cable TV connection. One of his enterprising friends had started a cable TV business. Rajjo had not understood what exactly it was but there was more to watch on TV than just Doordarshan. She learnt from Seth-ji that his friend Gulmoher had wisely invested in videocassette recorders and had set up a unit in his garage. Cable TV offered to show two to three Bollywood films a day. No running to the video library anymore! Apart from Bollywood movies, they also had a menu of English movies, pirated Western comedies, music and game shows. It was a matter of time when it would be available in their town as well. Rajjo had grunted at regular intervals as Seth-ji shared his excitement. He wanted to start his own cable TV business. He was convinced it was a gold mine. He had already started making plans.

As the sharp knife grazed her finger, she came out of her reverie. The news reporter continued in the background as Rajjo resumed chopping cabbage in her living room alone, trying to react to something she had learnt on TV. Somehow, it did not affect her at all. She continued with her chopping. Perhaps it was the cold and musty weather that had dulled her instincts. Back home, she had heated political debates with her father and siblings. Her mother frowned upon Rajjo for having extreme political opinions and constantly schooled her to tone down her outbursts.