name’s Jay, but I don’t know much more than that. When they moved in last summer, I went over to introduce myself-and to see if he was any good at cricket-but he hardly said a word.”
“How old is he, then?”
“Twentyish. No friends. No sisters or brothers. Keeps to himself and mostly stays in his room.”
“What does he do up there?”
“I don’t know. Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“Oh, he stares over here a lot.” She didn’t add the words “at me,” figuring her cousin would probably react in shocked disbelief. A man … staring at dark, skinny, flat-chested Asha Gupta? Besides, she didn’t want anybody to find out that she’d been escaping up to the roof.
Raj shrugged. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless. Come on, Tuni, let’s play a hand or two and challenge my parents after dinner. They’re undefeated in the neighborhood, but it would be so fabulous if we beat them.”
After she and Raj had been soundly trounced by Auntieand Uncle in a couple of games of twenty-nine and the little girls had enjoyed a good long romp, Asha lit a candle and propped her feet in her sister’s lap. The small cousins were already asleep, nestled against each other like a pair of spoons.
“You win,” Reet said, pouring baby oil into her palm. “Raj talked to us both nonstop at dinner
and
during the card game. How’d you break the spell, you sorceress?”
“It’s called the magic of sports, Reet.”
And the power of secrets,
she thought. “Focus on the arches, will you?”
NINE
T HE NEIGHBORHOOD’S INTEREST IN R EET DIDN’T SEEM TO BE waning. Every afternoon, ignoring the mud in the lane and the rain falling on their umbrellas, admirers gathered near the gate. They stayed there until Uncle stalked out grimly to put on the big padlock, signifying that the household was closing down for the night.
Grandmother pushed past Ma and Auntie to shut the curtains firmly, but that didn’t prevent Reet’s fan club from tossing flowers through the bars onto the path. Or singing love songs at the tops of their not-so-tuneful voices.
“Fools, all of them,” Grandmother said, and Asha heartily agreed.
Her own watcher’s interest wasn’t abating, either. She fumed in her corner of the roof as he gazed at her fromacross the way.
I'm not budging, SK,
she told her diary.
I'm NOT losing the only place I can be alone because Some Monk is obsessed with watching me write.
As for Ma, the brief thrill of her older daughter’s debut in the neighborhood was soon subdued once again by the pressure of living under a roof that wasn’t her own. She was getting quiet again, and the girls knew exactly who was closing in for the kill. In desperation, Reet proposed a jaunt of pleasure shopping. “Puja season starts in a couple of months,” she said, ignoring Grandmother’s frown.
“I suppose you’re right,” Ma said hesitantly. “You girls must have some decent festival clothes to wear if your father …” …
doesn't send for us by then.
Asha finished her mother’s sentence in her head, her stomach twisting. It had been almost four months since Baba had left for America. Had he passed that engineering test? How much longer would they have to wait?
“And how will you afford such a purchase?” Grand mother asked.
“Bintu left us enough money for
clothes,”
Ma said haughtily. “He likes to see me and his daughters looking nice.”
Grandmother sniffed but didn’t pursue her interrogation, and they took her silence as permission. Raj rounded up two cycle rickshaws and brought them to the gate. Auntie and Ma took Sita and Suma with them, and Raj, Reet, and Asha squished into the other.
Asha wished fervently but uselessly that she could stay home with Grandmother. War refugees blanketed the pavements, and too- skinny children made Asha’s heartache with helpless pity. But if she had to be honest, even more than interacting with destitute children, she hated the thought of trying on clothes in front of so
“How old is he, then?”
“Twentyish. No friends. No sisters or brothers. Keeps to himself and mostly stays in his room.”
“What does he do up there?”
“I don’t know. Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“Oh, he stares over here a lot.” She didn’t add the words “at me,” figuring her cousin would probably react in shocked disbelief. A man … staring at dark, skinny, flat-chested Asha Gupta? Besides, she didn’t want anybody to find out that she’d been escaping up to the roof.
Raj shrugged. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless. Come on, Tuni, let’s play a hand or two and challenge my parents after dinner. They’re undefeated in the neighborhood, but it would be so fabulous if we beat them.”
After she and Raj had been soundly trounced by Auntieand Uncle in a couple of games of twenty-nine and the little girls had enjoyed a good long romp, Asha lit a candle and propped her feet in her sister’s lap. The small cousins were already asleep, nestled against each other like a pair of spoons.
“You win,” Reet said, pouring baby oil into her palm. “Raj talked to us both nonstop at dinner
and
during the card game. How’d you break the spell, you sorceress?”
“It’s called the magic of sports, Reet.”
And the power of secrets,
she thought. “Focus on the arches, will you?”
NINE
T HE NEIGHBORHOOD’S INTEREST IN R EET DIDN’T SEEM TO BE waning. Every afternoon, ignoring the mud in the lane and the rain falling on their umbrellas, admirers gathered near the gate. They stayed there until Uncle stalked out grimly to put on the big padlock, signifying that the household was closing down for the night.
Grandmother pushed past Ma and Auntie to shut the curtains firmly, but that didn’t prevent Reet’s fan club from tossing flowers through the bars onto the path. Or singing love songs at the tops of their not-so-tuneful voices.
“Fools, all of them,” Grandmother said, and Asha heartily agreed.
Her own watcher’s interest wasn’t abating, either. She fumed in her corner of the roof as he gazed at her fromacross the way.
I'm not budging, SK,
she told her diary.
I'm NOT losing the only place I can be alone because Some Monk is obsessed with watching me write.
As for Ma, the brief thrill of her older daughter’s debut in the neighborhood was soon subdued once again by the pressure of living under a roof that wasn’t her own. She was getting quiet again, and the girls knew exactly who was closing in for the kill. In desperation, Reet proposed a jaunt of pleasure shopping. “Puja season starts in a couple of months,” she said, ignoring Grandmother’s frown.
“I suppose you’re right,” Ma said hesitantly. “You girls must have some decent festival clothes to wear if your father …” …
doesn't send for us by then.
Asha finished her mother’s sentence in her head, her stomach twisting. It had been almost four months since Baba had left for America. Had he passed that engineering test? How much longer would they have to wait?
“And how will you afford such a purchase?” Grand mother asked.
“Bintu left us enough money for
clothes,”
Ma said haughtily. “He likes to see me and his daughters looking nice.”
Grandmother sniffed but didn’t pursue her interrogation, and they took her silence as permission. Raj rounded up two cycle rickshaws and brought them to the gate. Auntie and Ma took Sita and Suma with them, and Raj, Reet, and Asha squished into the other.
Asha wished fervently but uselessly that she could stay home with Grandmother. War refugees blanketed the pavements, and too- skinny children made Asha’s heartache with helpless pity. But if she had to be honest, even more than interacting with destitute children, she hated the thought of trying on clothes in front of so
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