‘Yes.’
‘Double tape it?’
‘Okay.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
I packed up the kit and left. She came to the living room once she had dressed.
‘Sorry, you had to do that. There was no place I could have gone,’ she said.
‘Tauji did this to you?’
She nodded.
‘Why did he hit you? Please don’t evade my question. I want an answer. I love you, we have established that. So I need to know.’
She fought away her tears. ‘I made a few STD calls to Mumma–Papa. They caught me.’
‘Can’t you tell your parents about this?’
‘What would they do? They are away and I don’t want to trouble them,’ she said.
‘But—’
Her eyes flooded with tears and she put her arms around me. And soon I was crying, and crying more than her and it was she who had to quieten me, ‘Oh, Raghu, you’re so stupid! Why are you crying, stupid, stupid boy, shh, shh, I’m fine, Raghu, look, I’m fine now, stop crying now, such a stupid boy. What am I going to do with you? Just look at you, you baby.’
Weren’t parents supposed to be our saviours? This can’t be repeated. She can’t be another Sami. I won’t watch on helplessly this time.
‘Do you want to watch television?’ she asked.
I nodded vigorously and she had to ask me if I was okay. We watched TV for what seemed like hours. She thanked me when it was time for her to leave. We had just stepped out of the house when we bumped into Arundhati. I introduced them.
‘Ah! So you’re the famous Brahmi? Hi! I’m Arundhati! I played the role of Raghu’s pretend girlfriend for his master—’
‘I know,’ said Brahmi.
‘You’re cuter than I imagined,’ gushed Arundhati.
‘She has a thing for cuteness,’ I said.
‘We should make her meet Sahil then. He too has a thing for cute people,’ said Brahmi.
‘Is he cute?’ asked Arundhati.
‘Is he cute?’ I asked.
‘Maybe,’ Brahmi said and the girls laughed.
When Maa came back from work, she saw the soiled bandages in the dustbin and didn’t even ask me the wheres and hows, or if I had hurt myself. Her apathy had only begun to hurt when she came to me with an instruction.
‘If she comes one more time inside my house, I will throw you out.’
Little does she know that she will come back, in a few years’ time, as her daughter-in-law. Yes, I have imagined that.
And why not?
7 August 1999
