Saugandhi was standing next to the red mailbox at the alley’s corner. Sharp gusts of wind buffeted it, and the iron tongue hanging inside its mouth rattled. Again Saugandhi looked in the direction the car had gone, but she didn’t see anything. How much she wanted the car to come back just once, and … and.… But then she reasoned with herself, ‘I don’t care if it doesn’t come back. In fact, good for it! Why should I worry myself to death over it? I’m going home and I’ll sleep like a baby. What’s the point of rehashing everything? Why should I worry over nothing? Let’s go, Saugandhi, go home. Drink a ladleful of cold water, rub in a little balm, and go to bed. You’ll sleep well, and tomorrow everything will be okay. Fuck him and his car!’
These thoughts assuaged some of Saugandhi’s pain. She felt like she had emerged from a cold pond after bathing. Her body felt lighter, as she felt after praying. She began walking to her home, and was her spirits lifted, her steps seemed almost buoyant.
She had nearly reached her apartment when the memory of the man waylaid her again, filling her body with a throbbing pain. Her steps turned heavy, and she felt as though she was reliving the experience step by step — once again she left her room for the market, had a light shone in her face, and was insulted. She felt as though someone was pressing his thumb against her ribs, as you press your thumb into a sheep or goat to see if there is any meat beneath the hair. That rich fuck had …! By God, Saugandhi wanted to curse him! And yet what would come from that? She thought, ‘The real pleasure would come from branding his every inch with insults. The real pleasure would come from saying something to hurt him for the rest of his life. Or tearing off my clothes right in front of him, I would ask, “This is what you came for, right? Here, take it for free — take it. But not even your father could buy what I’ve inside me!” ’
Saugandhi was thinking of different ways of taking revenge. If just once she ran into him again, she would do this … no, not this, but this … she would take her revenge like this … no, not like that … like.… But when Saugandhi realized she would never see him again, she resigned herself to cursing him beneath her breath, and not even with such a bad word, just something that would stick to his nose like a fly to sit there forever.
In this bewildered state, she reached her second-floor room. She took her key out of her bra and reached out to unlock her door, but the padlock was missing! Saugandhi pushed one of the door’s panels inward, and this made a light creaking sound. Someone unlatched the chain from inside, and the door yawned open. Saugandhi entered.
Madho was chuckling. He shut the door and said to Saugandhi, ‘Today you took what I said to heart — a walk in the morning is very good for your health! If you get up and take a walk like this every morning, all your sluggishness will go away, the pain in your waist too, the pain you’ve been complaining about so much. You must have walked all the way to Victoria Gardens and back, right?’
Saugandhi didn’t answer, and Madho didn’t press her. In fact, he never really meant that she should answer his questions, and he talked only because he had to.
Madho sat down on the cane chair with the stained back, crossed his legs, and stroked his moustache.
Saugandhi sat on the bed. ‘I was just expecting you.’
Madho was startled. ‘You were expecting me? How did you know I was coming?’ Saugandhi relaxed her lips into a thin smile. ‘I dreamt about you. I got up, but no one was there. So I decided to go for a stroll, and …’
This pleased Madho. ‘And I came! Well, what do you know! Whoever said that people are connected by their hearts was exactly right. When was your dream?’
‘At about four o’clock.’
Madho got up from the chair and sat next to Saugandhi. ‘And I dreamt about you at exactly two o’clock. You were standing next to me in this very sari. What were you holding — what was it? Oh, yes, you were holding a little bag full of money. You gave this bag to me and said, “Madho, what’re you worrying about? Take this bag. My money’s your money, right?” Saugandhi, I swear, I got up immediately, bought a ticket and came here. What should I say? I’m in a lot of trouble! Out of the blue, someone filed a police report against me. If I give the inspector twenty rupees, he’ll let me go. Aren’t you tired? Lie down, and I’ll massage your feet. If you’re not used to walking, you’re sure to get tired. Here, put your feet next to me and lie down.’
Saugandhi lay down. She folded her arms behind her head for a pillow and then in a cloying tone said, ‘Madho, what bastard filed a report against you? If you think there’s a chance you might go to jail, just tell me. If you give him twenty or thirty rupees — no, even fifty or a hundred — you won’t regret it. If you get off, it’s like saving yourself a fortune. Anyway, stop that, I’m not that tired. Stop and tell me everything. Just hearing the words “police report” made my heart start pounding. When will you go back?’
Madho smelled liquor on Saugandhi’s breath. He thought this the opportune moment and so quickly said, ‘I’ll have to go back in the afternoon train. If the subinspector doesn’t get fifty or a hundred by the evening, then … well, there’s no need to give him a lot. I think fifty should be enough.’
‘Fifty!’ Saugandhi exclaimed.
She got up slowly and went up to the four photos on the wall. Madho’s was the third from the left: he was seated on a chair with a floral-printed curtain behind him. He sat with his hands on his thighs, and in one hand he held a rose. On the stool next to him were two thick books. Everything in the photo was so conspicuous that they all seemed to be saying, ‘We’re having our picture taken! We’re having our picture taken!’ In the photo, Madho was wide-eyed, and the whole situation seemed to make him uncomfortable.
Saugandhi started cackling, a sharp laugh that pricked Madho like needles. He rose and approached her. ‘Whose photo are you laughing at?’ he asked.
Saugandhi pointed to the first photo from the left, that of the official from the city’s Sanitation Department. ‘His — this guy’s,’ she said. ‘Look at his snout. He used to brag, “A queen once fell in love with me.” Yuhkk! Can you imagine a queen loving this nose?’
Saugandhi ripped the frame from the wall with such force that the nail came out along with some plaster. This shocked Madho, and before he could recover, Saugandhi threw the frame out of the window. It fell two floors down and hit the ground with the sound of breaking glass.
‘When his rag-picking queen comes by on her trash-collecting rounds, she can take him with her,’ she mocked. Again Saugandhi erupted in bitter laughter. It rained from her lips like embers flying from a grindstone.
Madho forced himself to laugh.
Saugandhi ripped the second frame off the wall and threw it outside.
‘What does this place mean to that bastard?’ she asked. ‘From now on ugly men are banned — isn’t that right, Madho?’
Madho again forced himself to laugh.
With one hand, Saugandhi took down the picture of a man wearing a turban, and with her other hand she reached for Madho’s photo. Madho shrank back as though she was reaching for him. Then Saugandhi ripped them off the wall, along with their frames and nails.
Saugandhi laughed loudly and then shouted, ‘Yuhkk!’ She threw both frames out the window, and after a moment, they heard the sound of shattering glass. Madho felt as though something inside him had broken. He forced himself to laugh.