‘I have brought you some herbs, Chenni. They will soothe you. Annaiah says it will give you lasting relief,’ she tells her.

Chenni smiles hugely at her and nods, continuing her rounds in the cramped space. Thimmakka cuts the brown root into small pieces, grinds it to a paste and mixes it with warm milk. Chenni downs the tasteless concoction in one gulp. The steel lota falls down from her suddenly listless fingers and she collapses on her bed. She goes into deep sleep.

Thimmakka is not sure what to expect. What does ‘worsen’ mean? Will Chenni go mad and tear off her clothes, like they do in films? Will she become an object of ridicule, like Thimmakka wants? She doesn’t even know if she has given the root in sufficient proportion for it to be effective. What if milk reduced its effects? Oh lord, she had never considered that. How can she find that particular root again, if this one does not do the job?

She turns Chenni over and looks at her. No signs of madness. Somehow, she had thought that Chenni would lose all sanity, tear at her hair and give vacant smiles … this is not quite satisfactory. Suddenly, Chenni wakes up with a scream. She starts writhing and squirming horribly, screeching out Thimmakka’s name, pleading for help.

Ajji and Marakka come rushing. Ajji takes in what is happening in a flash and tells Marakka to quickly get the hot water. Thimmakka, go fetch Bangari and everyone else, she is giving birth! Thimmakka, of course, obediently runs out, what else can she do? She does not understand – Chenni is supposed to go crazy, not give birth at this precise moment.

When she returns with the other women, Annaiah, weaving drunkenly on his feet, is standing in front of the house. With a strange look on his face, he asks Bangari to send Ajji out to meet him. Ajji rushes out, confident that Annaiah might do something to save the situation. Chenni is too ill to give birth at this point.

Thimmakka follows her. Annaiah, with barely a glance at her, gives Ajji a garland. The smell of it makes Thimmakka dizzy. She wills it away again and forces herself to concentrate on what Annaiah is saying.

‘Please put this on Chenni. It has Kamadeva’s blessings on it. All my years of penance and prayer, all my strength and powers are there in this garland. It will remain fresh as long as I am strong. Be careful with it – it can destroy me. When Chenni’s daughter is born safe and sound, as she will be, put it around the child. An hour after its birth you can take it off. The child will be safe. Keep the garland for her. It will safeguard her.’

Ajji looks at the vivid flowers, her head swimming. These were the same ones in her daughter Gangi’s bridal garland. She remembers the colours and the smell. She looks quickly at Annaiah, meets his gaze, then nods and turns towards the sickroom.