Khader’s new store did the best business in the tamarind-tree junction. He seemed to have taken over that store from his now father-in-law, Aziz, at the most opportune moment. He started a wholesale and retail stationery store, and it really thrived. Despite his goodwill gestures in the sale of the textile store he’d owned earlier, he still made a great deal of money from it and invested all of it in this new store. Khader was not keen on a huge profit. He preferred to keep the goods moving at a moderate margin of profit. He wanted the store to be busy all the time. He was happy as long as he made two or three thousand rupees at the end of the day. How much of that amounted to a profit was of little concern to him.

Khader, his wife, and Aziz all settled down in a bungalow in Kottar. Even in the very first weeks of their marriage, Khader developed an intense aversion to his wife. Every part of her body was repellent to him. In his heart, he began to hope that she would just die. He yearned to be free of this shackle, so he could actually find someone to his liking and start a new and happy married life while he was still young. He knew that these were but futile dreams. Arguments and fights and abuses became their everyday affair. Aziz moved back to Kalakkad, unable to bear the sight of Khader horribly beating his pregnant daughter. He had lost his first wife some time back, and, unable to bear the loneliness, he married again. One look at his new bride sent Khader into a jealous rage. He hit his wife, screaming in disbelief that the old man had found such a beautiful wife. “Go! Go bring her here!” he screamed. His wife was by then accustomed to his drunken tirades. She had long since reached the point where even stabbing herself in the eye wouldn’t cause her to shed a tear.