Even in that state, how beautiful she looked! All I could see were her face and those breasts that stood out like two firm guavas. One moment her hair fell over her face in the breeze, and the next moment it moved away gently. There was no life in those poor hands to even move the hair from over her face. And she was devoid of all modesty, that wretched woman, even to cover her chest. How lovely she used to be. Such an arresting presence she had. When she swayed her hips and preened like the temple peacock, every man felt her spell. If an old man on his deathbed happened to catch a glimpse of her, he was sure to tear up at the thought his life had been wasted. Men devoured her with their eyes. The silly whore ended it all in one second. Who would want to go near her now?

For a little while, I stood watching them carry away that ladder with Chellathayi’s body laid on it. Then I looked toward the casuarina trees.

The priest was nowhere to be seen! How could he have vanished so quickly? I walked toward the southern bank of the pond. I saw a figure—Koplan!—jumping into the pond and swimming toward the tamarind tree. I could not imagine what business anyone could have at that time of the night with the tamarind tree. What was this Koplan doing? It suddenly occurred to me that this hapless fellow might also be planning to hang himself from the tree.

Then I heard the sound of an axe hitting the tree. The blighted fellow was cutting down the tree! What hubris! Did they all think that Asan was dead and gone?! That they could just cut down that tree?! Was this tree planted by Madaiyadi Maadan, your deity? Or did they think their father planted and watered the tree? I was too agitated to stay quiet about all this. So I jumped into the pond right away.

Asan took out a cheroot from the folds of his veshti and lit it. He pursed his lips and blew out smoke in intermittent puffs. Then, with a great show of effort, he hacked up a fake cough, drew in his stomach, cleared his throat, and spat forcefully. Then he turned to us.

I swam to the mound, climbed onto it, ran, and grabbed Koplan’s arm. He turned and glared at me. And I stood there, glaring right back at him, without blinking even once.

“Is it you, Asan?” he said.

“Yes, it is indeed Damodara Asan,” I replied.

“Asan, don’t meddle in this. There is no saying what I will do right now. Move away.”

I raised my voice. “Oh yeah? What will you do?”

“I am here to cut down this tree. If you try to stop me, I don’t have a problem cutting you down first,” he said. He lifted his axe over his head—