Sometimes Buddhiram regretted this cruel attitude of his. He knew well that he could pretend to be a gentleman because of this property. If verbal assurances and dry sympathy could improve the situation, he was all for it. But the fear of extra expenses made him suppress all his good intentions. If the old aunt shared her plight with a visitor he would fly into a rage and reprimand the aunt. Children generally dislike old people. When they saw the attitude of their parents towards her, they teased her all the more. If someone pinched her, another would spit water on her after rinsing. Kaki would let out a scream, but as everyone knew that she cried and screamed only for food, no one paid any heed. Of course, if Kaki, in a fit of anger, started cursing the children, Rupa would appear on the scene. This fear made Kaki use her tongue as a weapon sparingly, though it was certainly a more potent weapon than crying to get her way.
In the entire family, if Kaki was attached to anyone, it was to Ladli, Buddhiram’s youngest daughter. Fearing her marauding brothers, Ladli would take her share of sweets to Kaki’s room and eat them there. This was her refuge, though it often proved rather costly because of Kaki’s greed, yet cheaper than her brothers’ injustice. Their self-interest had awoken their sympathy for each other.2
It was night. A shehnai was playing in Buddhiram’s courtyard, and the children of the village were enjoying the music with wide-eyed wonder. The guests were resting on charpoys and getting massages from the barber. The village minstrel was standing there and singing and, carried away by this, some guests were exclaiming ‘Wah! Wah!’ The minstrel looked ecstatic, as though he was really deserving of the praise. Some English-educated youths were there who ignored it. They considered it beneath their dignity to take part in the assembly of fools.
The occasion was Buddhiram’s eldest son Sukhram’s tilak ceremony. People had gathered to celebrate it. Women were singing inside the house, and Rupa was busy in the preparations of the feast. Huge pans were installed on the earthen oven. If puris and kachoris were being fried in one, other dishes were being cooked in others. Spicy curries were being cooked in another huge pan. The appetizing aroma of ghee and spices had filled the place.
Kaki was sitting in her room, dejected. The spicy aroma was making her restless. She was thinking, They won’t give me any puris, I guess. It’s so late, but no one has brought me any food. It seems everyone has eaten. Nothing has been left for me. This made her feel like crying, but she resisted it thinking it might be an ill omen.
Ah! What aroma! Who’ll think of me? When they don’t give me enough rotis, will they give me luscious puris? This thought brought tears to her eyes and she felt a lump in her throat. But she maintained silence for fear of Rupa.
Kaki was lost in her sorrowful thoughts for a long time. The aroma of ghee and spices would make her restless off and on. Her mouth was watering. Imagining the flavour of the puris tickled her mind. Who would she call today? Even Ladli didn’t come to her. The two boys who always teased her were not to be seen either. No one knew where they had disappeared to today. If only she had a way to know what food was being prepared.
Kaki’s imagination took wing as she thought of the puris dancing before her eyes. Deep red, puffed up and soft to touch. Rupa must have eaten to her heart’s content. The kachoris must be emitting the aroma of ajwain and cardamom. If she could just lay her hands on a puri, she would love it. She felt like going to the scene and sitting before the pan. The puris must be tumbling out of the pan. They must be taking them out of the pan and serving them hot. One can smell flowers in the house, but it is quite another experience to smell them in the garden. Having decided, Kaki sat on all fours and, leaning on her hands, got across the threshold with difficulty and slowly crawled to the pan.
At that moment Rupa was carrying out her duties anxiously. Sometimes she entered one room, then another; sometimes she went near the pan, and the next moment to the place where the food was being stored. Someone came from outside and said, ‘Mahraj is asking for a milkshake.’ She became busy giving him a milkshake. The next moment someone else came and said, ‘The village minstrel has come, give him something.’ She was taking out a portion for the minstrel when a third person came and asked, ‘How long for dinner to be ready? Could you give me the drum and the cymbals?’ Poor thing, she was exhausted from running around and she felt annoyed, but she had no time to express her anger. If she vented her anger, her neighbours would make fun of her saying she had no ability to manage an event. Her throat was parched because of thirst. She was sizzling in the heat. But she didn’t have the time either to drink water or fan herself with a hand fan. She also had her apprehensions that if there was the slightest laxity on her part then things would begin to disappear. In this mental state when she saw Kaki sitting near the pan she flared up. She could not control herself. She forgot that her women neighbours were sitting there and did not care what they would think. What would the men think if they saw her chiding the old woman? Just as the frog pounces on the snail, she pounced on Kaki, shook her by the arms and said, ‘Is
