In Your Blood I Run by Sonia Bhatnagar

Author:Sonia Bhatnagar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: null
Publisher: HarperCollins India
Published: 2022-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

By evening, she was worn out. The reporters had tried to find out in every which way how well she knew Ratan and what ‘according to her’ his motive could be. Did she think Sitara’s story had provoked him? Sexually, then criminally? If not, why was it found in a suspicious circumstance on the grounds of the property, one reporter asked her with a not-so-subtle raise of his eyebrow. When she replied that she found nothing suspicious in the manner the book had been found, he did not look convinced. The reporter looked at her steadfast for a long moment, she held his gaze, giving away nothing. Not mirth, not contempt, nor superciliousness. He changed his line of questioning soon enough.

Unlike him, she had learned to play the deadpan game early in life. Men grew up, went out and their work taught them many skills women had to teach themselves. One of those lessons was never to let on too much, early on. How else could you stand up for yourself or retaliate in equal measure without letting them know what you were up to? If they knew they would either be offended and attack you or gag you at once. No fun, either way. Deadpan, you could say what you wanted and they wouldn’t know for sure what exactly you meant. It worked like a charm, most of the time.

Only Noor would catch her out on her deadpan questions and answers. Warning her not to try her games with friends who knew her inside out. There was an ache deep inside her for Noor, to have her by her side, being dramatic and foolish and sweet. For Ratan too, the ache inside her, she was surprised to find, spread wide and deep.

The court summons had been an equally time-consuming question. Was she prepared? Would she apologize? No, she would not. What was she supposed to apologize for? Was it an option? They were relentless. It would stop the ban of the book, wouldn’t it? If the freedom of expression was so important to her, then why keep the book out of circulation from its future readers? On and on the bewildering permutation and combination of questions went. She did her best to keep up but after a point, she was happy being repetitive and robotic.

Then the note she had written to Ratan had featured prominently in their questions. What did you mean when you wrote this? It was an inside joke. Friends have strange inside jokes that only they understand.

Would she mind explaining?

Okay. So every time he said something nice about something I wrote I would say dramatically as the English do, oh you are too kind sir, too kind, and clasp my hands looking grateful.

Then he would look at me menacingly and say, that’s the evil plan, love, to kill you with kindness.

I would play along. But why kind sir, why?

So that I never have to say anything nice about what you’ve written ever again.

He would say this and laugh evilly and I would pretend to be shocked at this unkind revelation.

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