The Royal Ghosts by Samrat Upadhyay

Author:Samrat Upadhyay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

Back home from the Maru Ganesh temple, Janaki went up to Bhola’s room. After he left the house in a huff last night, he hadn’t returned. On the floor was his filthy bedding, and two giant cockroaches, feelers twitching, scurried across the room.

Janaki swept and mopped the floor, then tidied up his clothes. As she was making his bed, her fingers touched something hard. She lifted the mattress, then froze at what she saw. She gingerly lifted the thing with two fingers; it was heavier than she thought—she’d never seen one before except in movies. It had a brown handle and was rusted in spots. There was a bulge in the middle where she imagined the bullets went. Did it even work? Where did he get the money to buy it? Who sold it to him? And why had he asked her for a gun? Holding it carefully, she peeked out the window. People were going about their business. Two women carrying babies on their backs laughed as they talked. A young man, his hands in his pockets, sang loudly as he passed by. Voices drifted up. Fear tightened her stomach: Bhola might use the gun on himself.

She found a plastic bag under the bed and wrapped it around the gun with great caution, terrified that it would suddenly fire. She left the house and found herself thrust into the cacophony of the Makhan Tole marketplace. I should have gone another way, she thought, brushing against the pedestrians, fearful that the package would slip from her hands. She headed toward Ratna Park, where she boarded a minibus to go to Ananda, who lived in Balaju. On the minibus, Janaki clutched the gun under her shawl, feeling the cold metal against her belly.

When she knocked on Ananda’s door, Sukumaya answered. Janaki had never spoken to her, although she had run into her and Ananda a couple of times in the city after that first day at the market. Janaki and Ananda had done all the talking, mostly about Bhola, while Sukumaya had stood timidly behind him. “Is he home?” Janaki asked now. Her eyes fell on Sukumaya’s large belly, and Janaki swallowed. Soon Ananda would have even less time for Bhola.

Playing nervously with her hair, Sukumaya said he was visiting a friend.

“I’ll come back, then,” Janaki said.

Sukumaya said something so softly Janaki could barely hear her. “Please have some tea first,” Sukumaya repeated, louder this time.

What a strange woman, thought Janaki, who had expected Sukumaya to act at least a little sullen. Well, why not? Janaki thought. Let’s see what this woman is all about. And maybe Ananda would come home soon, and she could show him the gun.

She followed her into the living room and took a seat on a plush velvet sofa while Sukumaya went to the kitchen. The walls were covered with photos of Ananda and Sukumaya together: at their wedding, with mountains in the background, outside a temple. Janaki’s eyes fell on the one picture of Bhola, when he was five.

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