Excerpt from the short story titled “Trade Me for Naan?” © 2006

Manchek caught his fingers in Sudha's and held on for a moment, “Life's not that grim, Sudha. We have festivals, births to celebrate. You see dreary everywhere.”

“Village life is dreary. I want the freedom to live my own life.”

“Freedom won't put food in your belly.”

“I'll manage. Indra will protect me.” And in that moment Manchek prayed for her, harder than he'd ever prayed before.

They reached the crest of a hill. The narrow rutted road they'd been traveling on turned into a great path, choking with cows and oxen pulling carts and camels and loud trucks spilling out their contents and their black oily smoke. Multi-hued people in a rainbow swath of colorful fabric walked as Sudha walked, carrying what they owned on their heads or on their backs, dust rising up all around them. Neither of them had ever seen this kaleidoscope of people, machines and animals in endless movement. They stopped and looked on for awhile, too stunned to talk. Manchek kept his hand deep in his pocket as they surveyed the landscape below.

At first he was repulsed by the pervasive dusty weariness of travelers constantly bending right to left and back again as vehicles and beasts pushed their way through them. It seemed as if all the people moved as one long ribbon like ants on the march before the monsoon rains started. Some in one direction some in the other but all filling the space allowed making it impossible that it could hold even one more. He looked over to Sudha and saw her face shining with excitement. He couldn't ever remember her looking quite like she did at that moment. He turned his eyes back to the road and was still. After a while he too felt drawn in by the promise of something better, something new.

Sudha abruptly interrupted his meditation by throwing her arms around him and fiercely holding on until he was embarrassed and extracted himself from her embrace. He asked, for the last time, if this was what she really wanted and when she nodded yes he pulled the necklace out from his pocket. He gently dropped it in her open palm and whispered, “May Mother stay with you always.”

She looked down at the necklace in astonishment and clutched it to her chest. “I don't think I can leave you,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision. “How will I ever manage without you?” She shook off the tears, “How did you get this from Aunty?”

“Mother made me promise you'd have this necklace when you married but when Mother died, Aunty found it among her belongings. I couldn't say anything to Aunty because I was afraid she'd hide it and I would never find it again.”

Sudha turned the necklace over and over in her hands, watching the jewels and gold sparkle in the late afternoon sun.

He continued, “Not too long ago, when it was Aunty's turn to clean Shiva's temple, I took it to a town a few kilometers from our village. The jeweler told me it was very old and very valuable. You can get, maybe, 60,000 rupees for it. That's a lot of money Sudha, more than any of us has ever seen or will ever see. You could go to school.”

“I'll never sell it, Manchek. It is all I have of her.”

“When you get to Delhi, you bargain hard. You can have the good life Mother wanted for you.”

Tenderly he pressed her fingers close around the necklace and pushed her into the stream. This way she no longer had a choice, she had to join them, merge her destiny with all of theirs. He didn't want to but somehow he knew she'd be alright; she'd find her way. After he let her go he strained to catch a last glimpse of her but his search was in vain. She was already lost in a sea of heads, every one of them unfamiliar to him.