The Bandit Queens (83)
“No, stop. I don’t want your gratitude or filmy bullshit. Just take it and go.”
His face, divoted with deep smallpox scars, was sheepish. “It’s not that. God, this is so awkward. I can’t believe—I should’ve made it right earlier, but honestly, I kinda forgot and then it hardly mattered and…God, this is embarrassing. That’s the thing about being sober—you remember all the selfish shit you’ve pulled.”
“What are you saying?”
“The mangalsutra’s fake. I—I used the money my parents gave me for it to repay someone. And I bought a costume one.”
It wasn’t shocking. Still, she said, “You what?”
“I was going to replace it! I swear, once I got some money, but…”
“Who did you repay?” She needn’t have bothered asking. “Of course booze. You”—to her complete relief, she emerged from the tunnel of fear and rounded upon a very familiar corner of rage—“are a shit nugget.”
“I know,” he moaned. “I know I am. That’s why I want to make it up to you. I’ll get a job, I’ll earn some money. I’ll buy a mangalsutra and a cane.”
“Forget it,” she snapped. “What am I going to do with a fucking marriage necklace from you, Ramesh?” She was livid with herself and her stupid, futile gesture of kindness—no, weakness. At least she hadn’t tried to sell it; she’d have been laughed out of the shop. “God Above, I forgot what an ingrown hair you are.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “Please forgive me. I’ll find a way to make this up to you, I swear.” The necklace was in his hand between them. It dangled as he asked timidly, “Do you, like, want this back or…”
Geeta yanked it from him. “I should shove this up your piss hole.”
He blinked. “Were you always this vulgar?”
She didn’t attend Darshan’s mourning. Saloni did, however, so Geeta waited on her porch. When Geeta had left her own home, Ramesh had attempted to inquire about her plans, which she quickly quashed, informing him with false bravado that she had no interest in returning to a life where he had any say over her. Bandit had walked with her and was now in a losing battle with a new lithesome lizard.
“Bandit!” Arhaan shouted when he arrived with his family. In mourning Darshan, they’d all worn white and now resembled an advertisement for Nirma washing powder.
“Hey,” Saloni said. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
Arhaan and his sister led Bandit to play in the street. After nodding a greeting at Geeta, Saurabh went inside. Geeta explained how Ramesh had returned, broke and broken.
“Are you serious? Why?”
“He says he wants to try again, but I’m not sure.”
Panic flooded Saloni’s usually confident face as she balked. “Not sure! You cannot take him back, Geeta! Not after all he’s—”
“No, no, I mean I’m not sure what he’s actually up to. I offered him money and that didn’t work.”
“The only thing you should be offering that chutiya is two tight slaps. He’s stolen enough from you.”
“What?”
Saloni shook her head, faltering for only a second before her words were fluid once again. “You know what I mean. Like your time. Love. Your salt.”
Geeta felt close to tears. “It was awful seeing him again, Saloni. I can’t even tell you. I felt— it felt like no time had gone by, even though everything’s changed. When I think about Ramesh, I hate him so much I could tear his limbs off, but then…when I saw him today, it wasn’t that. It was…”
“What?”
“Terrifying,” she whispered. “I wasn’t angry, I was just scared. I can’t have him here.”
Saloni hesitated. “Should we, like, ‘get rid’ of him?”
Geeta smacked her forehead. “Why is that always everyone’s go-to? I just want to ‘regular’ get rid of him, not get rid of him.”
“I dunno, I mean everyone already thinks he’s dead. We could just…you know. You said he’s blind, right? So it’s gotta be easier than the others.”
“Or, hear me out, the panchayat could decide that he’s no longer my husband so I don’t owe him anything and he has to leave.”
Saloni’s mouth pulled down in doubt. “You want to take this to the council? What if they rule against you?”
“Well, I have your vote, correct? And you and Saurabh can convince your father-in-law. Whichever way he leans, the others will follow.”
“It’s still a big risk.”
Geeta looked down the street, where the kids were tugging a stick clenched between Bandit’s teeth. “I’ve been thinking about Khushi.”
“O Ram.” Saloni sighed. “You have a monsoon of shit pouring on your head and distracting yourself isn’t gonna clean it, Geeta.”
“If Khushi gets a panchayat seat, she would also vote against Ramesh. Plus, she could help herself and other Dalits. It’s a win-win.”
“Assuming you win. They’d never allow two women on the council.”
“They may have to—there’s a reserved seat for a scheduled caste, just like for a woman.”