Well-Behaved Indian Women by Saumya Dave

Author:Saumya Dave
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

Nandini

She ran away from her first husband three times.

The first time, she went to the market to buy okra for dinner. A black rickshaw was dropping off a young mother and her son. Nandini saw their hooked pinky fingers, told the driver to wait, and then stepped in, one chappal at a time. She tucked her dupatta into her lap. She reached Mami and Papa’s house in twenty minutes. After she paid, the driver settled in front of their neighbor’s veranda to take a nap.

Her parents were drinking afternoon chai in the living room. She covered her head with her dupatta and approached the barred window. There was a mound of dirt next to her feet, speckled with Cadbury candy wrappers, guava skins, and cigarette butts. She stood on top of it and waved.

At first, their faces lit up.

Is everything okay?

Are you hurt?

She explained everything in hushed Gujarati and flashed a smile whenever neighbors walked by. Papa told her to come inside. Portraits of his mother and father hung above the bookshelf, both of them framed with a white garland.

I can’t stay there, she told Papa after she told them how things had been for her. Let me come back home.

Papa kept his voice steady. You have to learn to honor your commitments. They’re your family now, and your duty is to them. Don’t embarrass us.

Nandini pretended she didn’t hear him and walked toward her bedroom.

Papa blocked the door. You should go home. Your home.

I can’t. Nandini tried to say the words as if there was no room for an argument.

Papa shook his head. He refused to hear any more.

When Nandini tried to walk past him, he said, I will drag you back there myself if I have to.

He opened the front door. I mean it. You’re going back now.

Mami started crying and repeating something Nandini couldn’t understand. Before Nandini could say anything else, Papa grabbed her wrist and guided her down the concrete steps. Papa shook the driver awake and pushed Nandini inside the rickshaw. He paid the driver double the fare to not bring her back.

Her in-laws’ house was ready for dinner when she shuffled in. Nobody suspected anything thanks to Papa’s explanation over the phone, but her father-in-law told her it was no longer appropriate to visit her parents whenever she pleased.

Her following mornings were spent cutting vegetables, feeding leftovers to the cows, washing clothes, and pinning them across the thick rope in the backyard to dry. Her mother-in-law barked orders like clockwork from her rocking chair. Don’t burn the onions! If you care about your husband, you’ll feed him properly! Gain some weight if you want healthy babies! Nandini’s husband would watch the exchanges with his arms crossed.

By lunchtime, her sister-in-law’s one-year-old son would need another diaper change. Nandini would unpin the cloth from his doughy waist and soak it in the leftover water. Everyone else in the house—her father-in-law, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and brother-in-law—would leave for languid strolls in the park and mutter questions about lunch when they returned.

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