“Fine, but you would be if you could. Because you like-like him.”
“Even if I did,” Geeta started, and when Saloni clapped in delight, she raised her voice: “And I’m not saying I do, but even if I did, what would be the point? Nothing can come of it.”
“Why not? One minute, I forgot my keys.” She gave the bag to Geeta and hustled back to the shop. When she returned, hitching the clip to her sari, she asked, “Why not? It’d be a bit of happiness. Ram knows you deserve some.”
“How would it even work? He’s a Muslim widower with four kids.”
“And you’re a ‘Hindu widow’ with none. We could sell the movie rights.”
“Things like that don’t happen in our villages. City people can mingle, not us.”
“Who says you’re marrying the guy? Have some fun. Chakkar chal.”
“Fun? Everyone is up everyone’s butt here. If you fart in one corner of town, they smell what you had for dinner in the other.”
Saloni’s nose wrinkled. “My, what an elegant metaphor, Geeta. Take a right. They’re usually near the water tower.”
The village’s water tower was to inebriated men what the water pumps were to the women. Every so often, they’d congregate, pour a few pegs and tease each other about their low capacities for booze. At times, they stumbled up the stairs, hoping to catch a breeze and a view, but neither were readily available in their village. There were few trees here and the men’s voices carried easily. A burst of raucous laughter guided Geeta and Saloni.
The men sat on a blanket covered in snacks and liquor bottles in various stages of depletion. Someone squatted near a makeshift fire, roasting papadam. When he shakily stood, Geeta recognized Saloni’s husband, Saurabh, and he was properly drunk. Saurabh handed the crisp papadam to Zubin, who sprinkled diced onions and lime juice on it before chomping down. Brittle flecks flew onto his shirt.
“Ahhh,” Saurabh greeted his wife. “Mother of Arhaan, I salute you.” He namasted his hands near his forehead and bowed low in deference. He dipped too far and lost his balance.
Saloni laughed. “Father of Arhaan, drink some water.”
“Pssh!” he said, flapping his hand. “Water. How was dinner?” Saurabh asked but was then distracted by the rustling of someone opening a Haldiram’s snack bag.
“Boring, yaar.” Saloni yawned and said, very nonchalantly, “We left right after you, Zubin. One of the kids had a nightmare and blah blah.”
A man Geeta didn’t know was splayed on the blanket, propped on shaky elbows. “You invited the churel into your house? Watch yourself, Zubin, you’ll wake up a shriveled old man.” He chortled himself flat.
Geeta burned, but no one else joined the laughter. Saloni said with a frown, “We went to Karembhai and have gifts. Lo!”
“What’s the need?” Saurabh said to his wife as the men happily relieved Geeta of the two bottles. “I could get intoxicated from your eyes alone.”
“Hutt!” Saloni said, tenderly slapping his cheek.
Saurabh looked at Geeta. “Arre! You two are friends again? Shabash! You know, Geetaben, my wife talks about your childhood days all the time. The mischief you stirred!”
“She does?”
“I do no such thing, you drunk duffer.” Saloni told Geeta, “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. After two pegs, you always say that you miss her and that Ramesh was the lowest fool ever birthed.”
“I also say I wish to be married to you for a thousand lifetimes. See how well I lie, gadheda? Pah! Chal, Geeta, let’s go.”
As the women left the water tower, they were quiet. Due to Saloni’s obvious embarrassment, Geeta didn’t mention Saurabh’s revelation, which now occupied more of her mind than Darshan. Instead, she said, “How are you so…fine? With everything that just happened, I mean?”
Saloni’s shrug was honest. “I really don’t know. I just know what guilt feels like, and I know I don’t feel any now.” She hesitated, then continued. “After Runi killed herself, I…I was in a bad way.” Pain pinched her eyes and Geeta felt her heart budge. “I thought the same as you: that I killed her. Everyone heard the things I said to her. I wanted her to wake up, see her son for the viper he was and stop being such a gullible fool. But afterward, I went back alone and told her I’d lend her the money. For the loan sharks. I said once we got them off her back, we’d figure it out. We’d get her boy clean. Lock him in a room if we had to. I’ve been over it ten thousand times. If she knew there was a solution with the money, then she killed herself because she was ashamed. Because I shamed her.”
Manners dictated that Geeta protest but integrity kept her mute. “Where’s her son now?”
Saloni sighed. “I have no idea. He disappeared. Didn’t even show up to light Runi’s pyre, the selfish chut. Better barren than a son like that.” She looked at Geeta. “Sorry.”
Geeta did not correct her. “So then, who paid for her last rites? You?”
Saloni nodded. “It didn’t make up for anything, but it was the right thing to do.” She almost smiled. “What did your mother always say? ‘After eating nine hundred rats, the cat goes on a pilgrimage.’？”
Geeta did not mention that the same proverb had occurred to her a few days back. “Yeah.”
“I really miss that woman.”
“Me, too.” But the ache of her lost mother was a bit lightened in sharing her memory. Geeta wasn’t the only one who remembered, and that made her mother feel less far away. Geeta said, “She loved you so much. She’d have been really happy to see you and Saurabh so happy.”
Saloni snorted. “Sure, he’s happy now. Wait ’til he wakes up tomorrow.” She cleared her throat. “But yeah. We are. All things considered. I thank the One Above that he doesn’t have a temper.”
“Can you imagine? There’s room for only one firecracker per relationship.”
“Shut up. But he’s always been modern. Like with the drinking, he likes it when I join him. How many husbands would allow that? And he’s good about not always taking his mother’s side over mine. He had to break that gargoyle down to not demand a dowry from my parents. Can you imagine? I mean, they had nothing. But we’re from the same caste, and that was apparently more important than money. Well, that and I was fair-skinned. Oh, and my eyes. Did I tell you? When the kids were born, she fasted for two weeks, praying their eyes would turn green. What a bitch.”
Geeta did not say that Saloni had not told her because they’d not been speaking for the past sixteen years. Instead, she nodded. “The previous generation’s always more about sanskaar and all that. Ramesh had the same battle, but he convinced his family not to take a dowry. Which I’ll always be grateful for, however much of a monster he turned out to be. My parents didn’t have a son to live with, so they really needed their savings.” She paused. “Not that they had any. I still can’t believe my father left so much debt. I know he didn’t mean to, but it’s just surprising because I thought I knew him better than that.”