Sunita didn’t know how to answer. Her mother interpreted her silence as shyness and let her go. Sunita returned to the Dhaliwals in the kitchen. She sat across from her suitor and looked demurely at the floor. If the family were kind, they would surreptitiously provide opportunities for the couple to study each other more closely. They would deliberately look away or become involved in an animated discussion that allowed the boy and girl to hold each other’s gazes. Sunita waited for this moment but it didn’t come. Mrs Dhaliwal was not much of a talker and she sat so close to her son, with her thigh so tightly pressed against his that Sunita wondered if she still fed him and washed his bottom too.
Sunita had a few moments before she had to return to the Randhawas. She stared at the tiles and delved into a fantasy about this Dhaliwal boy. ‘Kiss me,’ she said, drawing him into the lush farmland that bordered her family home. She lay down between tall stalks of grass and could smell the fragrant earth, the soil recently churned. He lay on top of her and slipped his tongue gently into her mouth. His hands roamed from her waist to her breasts, which he cupped and squeezed gently. With a pop, her blouse opened and he was taking her nipples into his mouth. Sweat rolled down the crease between her breasts and he licked it. She sighed and bucked at the movement of his hard, bulging muscle against the velvety cushion between her open legs—
‘HEEHEEHEE!’
Sunita’s daydream was broken by the Dhaliwal boy’s hideous laugh. Somebody had told a joke. Everybody was laughing but this man was the noisiest. His grin revealed a set of big teeth. Sunita could not imagine tender kisses from a mouth like that. ‘I won’t marry that donkey,’ she informed her mother in the corridor.
Her mother looked relieved. ‘Good. The Randhawas have a better dowry offer anyway,’ she said, ushering Sunita into the living room.
Sunita sat before the Randhawas with renewed interest in their son now that she had eliminated the Dhaliwal boy. The Randhawa boy’s boniness was still bothersome but his grey eyes were like the still pools of rain that collected on pavements and glittered with specks of sunlight. She imagined holding her firstborn child and gazing into those eyes. Of course, there was the act that created the baby first. Once again, she fell into her imagination. This time the scene was set in their marital suite. She was wrapped in a bejewelled red gown and he was undressing her slowly. With each glimpse of skin that he revealed, he stopped to marvel at her. Finally, she was naked and standing before him while he knelt at her feet, having removed her shoes. He swept her into the air and laid her down gently on the bed. His fingers made teasing circles on her inner thighs as he kissed her passionately.
The fantasy ended there. It was already too far-fetched. This bony, awkward boy would never have the strength to lift Sunita onto the bed. His fingers would be stiff as sticks and he would jab them into her – she knew this from the feverish, impatient way he dipped his biscuit into his tea. He wouldn’t know the last thing about fondling a woman either. He would pinch and twist as if tuning a radio.
‘Neither of those men are suitable,’ Sunita told her mother after both families left. ‘I won’t marry them.’
It was just as well. Both families declined Sunita. The Dhaliwals believed she was vain. ‘She spent more time looking at her painted toenails than at the in-laws who would take her in. An ungrateful girl,’ huffed Mrs Dhaliwal. The Randhawas had overheard Dalpreet’s comments about the dowry and they were offended. They mistook the lusty look in Sunita’s eyes for greed, not knowing that she was actually attempting to conjure up a fantasy about their son.
Dalpreet cried and fretted. ‘What will I do now?’ she wept, dabbing the corners of her eyes with her dupatta. ‘I have been cursed with a choosy daughter. She’ll never get married.’
Helpless to comfort her mother, Sunita climbed onto the roof of her house and stared up into the sky. Somewhere out there was a husband for her. Not a boy. A man. She rested flat on her back. This was a bold thing to do. Anybody looking out of their window could see this single girl lying in the dark, daring the world to join her. A breeze sighed through the fields, lifting and dropping the hem of Sunita’s cotton tunic like a winking eye. She spread out her arms and stretched them till the tips of her fingers were touching the furthest points. It still wasn’t far enough. On these rooftop visits, Sunita wished to lengthen her limbs so she could spread across the entire world.
A presence made the hairs on Sunita’s neck stand. She sat up and looked around and noticed a bedroom light on in the house next door. A shadow crossed the window. Sunita’s heart leapt. She had noticed the Professor when he moved in to the house – rumour had it that he had been married once before but he was now living as a bachelor in his sister’s home – but she was never able to maintain her gaze on his face long enough without making her mother suspicious. She sensed from his long, confident strides that he was an experienced man.
Waiting for the Professor to pass the window again, Sunita freed her hair from the chaste braid her mother had made her wear. She combed her fingers through her hair, unweaving it so it fell loosely on her shoulders. She wished she had some kohl for her eyes. She bit her lips and pinched her cheeks to give them colour.
The Professor arrived at the window again and this time he lingered. ‘How did you get up there?’ he asked. His deep voice stirred something in Sunita.
‘It wasn’t too difficult,’ she said.
‘It looks dangerous,’ he replied. ‘You’re not scared?’
She shook her head. Her hair moved back and forth. She could sense that he was watching her. Encouraged by his interest, she smiled. ‘Nothing scares me.’ Her heart hammered inside her chest.
He returned her smile and climbed out of his window. In a few swift movements, he was on the roof with her. Although his physique was muscular, his steps were quiet. A breeze passed through the village, making Sunita shiver. Without a word, he drew her to his warm and solid body. His smell was intoxicating.