BERKLEY
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Copyright 2020 by Saumya Dave
Readers Guide copyright 2020 by Saumya Dave
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Names: Dave, Saumya, author.
Title: Well-behaved Indian women / Saumya Dave.
Description: First edition. | New York: Berkley, 2020.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019059243 (print) | LCCN 2019059244 (ebook) | ISBN 9781984806154 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781984806161 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Mothers and daughtersFiction. | Indian womenFiction.
Classification: LCC PS3604.A9424 W45 2020 (print) | LCC PS3604.A9424 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019059243
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019059244
First Edition: July 2020
Cover art and design by Farjana Yasmin
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
To Samir, for making every day an adventure and giving me the space, inspiration, and encouragement to write.
Prologue
Nandini
1989
N andini, please think before you speak. Please. We need things to go well today. This is our only chance. Mami fastens another row of safety pins into Nandinis sari. Even one slip of fabric could mean disaster.
Nandini nods. I know.
She does know. She knows her familys reputation depends on how she behaves today. She knows this is her only chance to fix everything she did last year, everything theyve tried to forget.
Theyll be here any minute. Im going to make sure the chai is ready. Mami puts the extra safety pins onto the wooden dressing table, next to a bottle of Ponds talcum powder.
Ever since the incident, Mami was frantic when people came over to their house. Her energy was contagious. Their maid, Kavita, peeled ginger and cut mint leaves at record speed. The man who delivered vegetables scurried in and out of the house with trays of okra and bell peppers. Even the monkeys that roamed the trees outside their bungalow jumped from branch to branch as though they were in a rush.
Mami knocks on the bedroom door. Theyre here. Come out when I call you.
I will. Nandini ignores the warm, tight dread thats looming over her chest. She cant let her thoughts race today. She wont.
Nandini takes one last look into her mothers chipped dressing-table mirror. Her hair is smoothed down with coconut oil and tied into a low bun. A silk peach sari is draped around her thin frame. Her large, almond-shaped eyes are lined with kohl. Three gold bangles are on each of her wrists. She looks like the type of woman who has nothing to hide.
Beads of sweat erupt on her forehead. Nandini dabs them with a tissue and turns on the ceiling fan. She takes deep breaths, the way her therapisther therapist nobody except Mami knows abouttaught her.
She pictures taking her past, putting it into a box, and shoving it under the bed. Just like that, and it would be out of sight. Gone. But time has shown her that this isnt possible, that the past isnt like an old journal she can hide. No, the past has blades and will rip her to shreds if she doesnt handle it properly.
Nandini sneaks into the kitchen. From here, she can make out her parents voices.
Nandini loves music, she hears Papa saying.
Thats nice. And Ranjit wants a doctor, so thats good, Ranjits mother says, as if her son isnt sitting right next to her. But does she cook?
Nandini presses her bare feet against the smooth, cool stone in the kitchen. Everywhere she looks, theres food. The counter is covered with tiny steels bowls of roasted peanuts, onions, and cilantro. Biscuits that Papa dips into his tea are arranged on a silver platter. An assortment of chutneys is on the small, wooden side table.
And has your daughter, uh, learned from everything before? Ranjits dad asks.
They know about what happened , Nandini thinks.
Of course they do. Everyone in this part of India heard about what Nandini did. There were people who made sure of it. Shame coats her in waves, a shame shed tried hiding from but couldnt. It lodged itself into her organs and never went away. It became part of her DNA.
She is ready to move on, Papa says.
Hes been getting short of breath just by speaking now. His ankles are always swollen, and every time he walks, there seems to be a weight across his shoulders.
Nandini! Mami yells.
Nandini takes a deep breath. She is supposed to walk in slowly, with her head down, her facial expression neutral.
Everyone is quiet as Nandini comes into the living room. Black-and-white photos of her grandparents are hanging on the walls, with garlands around them.
Hi, beta , Ranjits mother says.
Nandini nods. She catches Mami giving her a look of approval. She sits between her parents and gives one-word answers to all the questions from Ranjits parents. Yes, she likes cooking. Yes, she would like to have children. No, she has no concerns about moving to America. Of course she will be able to take care of her in-laws.
It takes everything she has to be docile and demure. An hour passes this way.
Just when she thinks that the guests are getting ready to leave, Ranjit clears his throat and speaks for the first time. Do you think we could sit outside together? Alone?
Nandini raises her eyebrows in surprise. Is this allowed? She turns toward Mami and Papa.
Mami speaks before Papa can. I think thats fine.
Nandini guides Ranjit to the wooden swing on her parents veranda. They sit down, and shes hyperaware of everything. The small distance between them. His thick mustache. The way the warm breeze spreads his scent of Pears brand soap and talcum powder. His clean feet, with trimmed toenails and a smattering of hair on his big toe.
It has been so long since shes been this close to a man. The last time, she found herself overcome with a consuming self-hatred. Never again , she told herself then. Never again will I let myself be put through this.
Youre not like other women Ive met, Ranjit finally says.
Nandini faces him. Thats probably true. Listen, I know youre looking to get married to someone more tradit
What are you trying to say?
She looked him deep in the eyes. Im difficult. You wont be able to handle it.
He chuckles. I like that youre difficult.
Nandini soaks in the lines around his eyes, the kindness of his smile. Is this man accepting her? Why? She isnt sure about any of that, but she is sure about one thing: theres something comforting about him, something safe.