‘Almost.’ ‘What then will be my predicament?’ He’d say things like, ‘You can stay in a corner.’ She’d weep herself to sleep every night. ‘Is it fate that I should rely on another lady for food? I’m going to my father’s place right now. Aren’t they going to feed me at least once a day? After all, they are the ones who gave birth to me. Isn’t it true that I don’t have a brother? I’m going to crumble at his feet. Is he really going to feed me oatmeal for the rest of my life? Can’t I locate a tiny rope if nothing else works? Isn’t it true that the portia tree’s branches are all over the place? I’m going to hang from one of them.’ Kali would quietly smile as he watched her antics. Ponna would act as if everything had ended and he had already returned home with another woman. He wondered whether she was practising for a scene like this. It took days to make her happy. This was the game they were playing. They wouldn’t have required this if they had youngsters running around the home. Such games were really a ruse to keep them from becoming bored with one other’s expressions. However, he had no intention of marrying another woman. ‘For this birth, one torment is enough,’ he would add. ‘Oh! ‘Do you believe I’m tormenting you?’ And she’d become enraged. His heart would melt and he would run to soothe her when she said, ‘Maama, won’t I ever get pregnant?’ ‘Why not, dear?’ says the narrator. You’re only twenty-eight years old right now. I married you when you were sixteen years old. And you have the same appearance. Women give birth until they are forty or forty-five years old. ‘We aren’t that elderly,’ says the narrator. Their emotions swayed back and forth between faith and resignation. Neither of them had a birth chart done for them. ‘I fought for two days after my water broke,’ his mother would lament if he asked about the time of his birth. Who looked after me? The midwife saved both of our lives in some way. I said a prayer to Karia Kali. That is why I gave you the name Kaliyannan. I can’t recall if it was Maasi or Panguni month. Do you think we’re royalty if our birthdate and time are recorded? What good is a birth chart if you roll around in the dirt? You’ll have to make do with whatever sticks to you, even if you rub yourself with oil before rolling.’ Ponna, too, had not written down the details of her birth. As a result, they both exposed their palms to palmists all around town and had to accept what they were told. Ponna would have her card read by a parrot whenever she went to the market. She’d gone to every astrologer in the neighbourhood who used a parrot to draw cards. They were all predicting good news. There was not a single bad card drawn. There were also individuals who made forecasts by drawing lines at fairs. Large pearls were used by some, while stones were heaped high by others. It wasn’t too expensive—maybe one or two rupees. They all projected positive outcomes. They’d add, ‘You’ll get it late, but you’ll get it for sure,’ if she stated she’d been married for more than ten years. All threads of faith would come together in difficult times. Ponna delivered another plate of snacks and a mug of water as Kali was cleaning his hands after eating the hot pakodas and sweetened rice cakes. They claimed this spot under the tree whenever they gathered here for a feast. This was where they stayed at all hours of the day and night. There were no invasions because the house was hidden in the middle of the fields. He relocated to the porch if it started to rain. But he never entered the house, which consisted of only one large room. This space was also shared by Kali’s father-in-law and mother-in-law, in addition to Muthu, his wife, and their child. His father-in-law would also stick to the porch and the cattle pen. Muthu, too, would only come in at night to sleep. ‘Have you received the festival blessing money?’ Ponna was the one who asked Kali. ‘As if that’s the only thing that’s missing from my life.’ I would demand it rightfully from my father and brother if I had one child in each of my arms, waist, and womb. I’ll take it if they give it to me now. If they don’t, I’m not going to ask.’ It had been two years since they had attended the temple chariot festival. It used to be a big deal, with a new sari, dhoti, towel, and other accessories. They were even given money to sacrifice to the gods, up to ten or twenty rupees. It wasn’t like Kali had become accustomed to any of this. But he was just attempting to strike up a conversation and find out what she was thinking. Kali sat her on the cot, holding her hand tenderly. As she sat down, the material covering her bosom slipped slightly.