Read Custody for Free Online Page B

drawn and tense, her hair dishevelled, her sari crumpled, the blouse even less matching than usual. For twelve years her mother had praised Raman for being the son she never had. Now she looked as though she had lost a child.
    ‘If I tell you, you will get more upset,’ she said, ordering the maid to make lemonade with lots of lemon and sugar the way Naani liked it, and to also bring the pista, still unlocked after last night’s drinks.
    No, no, let the pista be, it will be too heating in this weather.
    The daughter paid no attention. Her mother loved pista, and denied herself routinely. ‘If men can have pista with drinks that are already heating, you can have it with your lemonade, which is cooling.’
    ‘Shagu, I couldn’t sleep all night. What will happen to you? To the children? And Raman? His family is everything to him.’
    ‘Mama, stop going on. It is hard enough as it is. Am I to stay married to Raman because you love him so much?’
    That would not be a bad idea, thought the mother, but she said nothing. Her daughter looked perfect in her pale lavender embroidered organdie kurta with the purple salwar and chunni. Her small white feet were in delicate beaded jutti. She wore amethyst earrings, pale pink nail polish, purple glass bangles on one arm, a dainty gold watch on the other. The mother noticed a tiny diamond set in the dial. ‘Did he give you that watch?’ she asked.
    The daughter nodded, her blush rising from neck to face as she remembered his insistence that she carry a token of their love into her house: jewellery was too conspicuous, a watch had seemed ideal.
    Mrs Sabharwal renewed her attack. She promised not to blame, she would only try and understand.
    Shagun wrapped her arms around her, whispered how sorry she was, really she hadn’t wanted to do anything to hurt her husband, she too was afraid, but now this thing had happened, she was already more deeply in love than ever in her life, more ecstatic, more miserable. She knew what her mother felt about Raman, but she herself didn’t care if she lived or died.
    What choice did the mother have? She had to agree to keep silent, without having accomplished her goal of making Shagun follow the path of virtue. Now she was an accomplice to the crime. Society could point its finger at her and say, she knew and did nothing. How would it look? she blurted, and her daughter replied, ‘Look to who?’
    To God, how will it look to God?, but this was not a response that would influence Shagun.
    Raman, for marketing reasons which Shagun found incomprehensible, had just returned from Singapore, and was anxious to distribute presents of cutlery sets, perfume and chocolate to both sets of parents. Shagun knew how transparent her mother was, and till her news had lost the capacity to shock, tried to postpone going to Alaknanda.
    ‘So much chocolate is bad for her,’ she said, looking at the small sack of Lindt Assorted.
    ‘She loves the stuff.’
    ‘Doesn’t mean she should eat it.’
    ‘Has something happened?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Then? Why deprive Ma of a little chocolate? Besides, you wouldn’t want your husband to visit his mother-in-law empty-handed.’
    The visit was made, during which Shagun had to endure her mother’s awkward behaviour. To have the knowledge she did and behave normally was practically impossible for Mrs Sabharwal.
    ‘Ma, are you all right?’ asked Raman, noticing the frown, sensing the worry.
    ‘A slight headache,’ she quavered.
    ‘Maybe you should take Belladonna 200,’ said Raman. Since the birth of his children he had dabbled in homeopathy.
    ‘Thank you, beta.’
    ‘Do you still have the bottle I gave you?’
    ‘Yes, don’t worry about me, beta.’
    ‘It’s nothing, don’t fuss. You know she gets a headache sometimes,’ said Shagun curtly.
    ‘Shagu, I don’t think we can call Ma’s pain nothing. The headache could be an indication of some deeper malady. Homeopathy is a holistic medicine.’
    ‘Beta, please, I