Song of the Cuckoo Bird: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

Chetana presented her with small black metal earrings that she had bought herself from money her mother had sent her. The money came rarely and in small amounts, so it was especially touching that she had used it for a gift.
    Vidura gave her a white handkerchief surrounded with lace. “I found it at the cinema,” he told her. “So I asked Subhadra to wash it and iron it for you.”
    It was a lovely handkerchief, delicate, and it smelled of roses. It was the most beautiful thing that Kokila had ever owned.
    “Chetana and I will come and see you. Oh, but you might be too busy with your husband and household,” he teased.
    Kokila winced when he said Chetana’s name like that, pairing it with his. Everyone was assuming she was leaving. Even Ramanandam Sastri gave her a going-away present, a leather-bound volume of Ramayana. It was an old book and the papers were thick and yellow and smelled. By giving her a present, Ramanandam Sastri squashed Kokila’s hope in the promise he had made to her that she wouldn’t have to go if she didn’t want to.
    After a festive lunch, she was asked to go to Charvi’s room, where Kokila’s in-laws were waiting.
    “Amma Kokila.” Her mother-in-law, a sweet-looking, slender woman, hugged her to her bosom. “We wanted you to come home after your father died, but it wasn’t proper then. We are so happy you’ll be with us now.”
    Kokila looked down at her feet and nodded. She was disappointed that her husband had not come. She had been curious to see if she would even recognize him.
    “Vamsi’s health is very delicate,” her mother-in-law said to explain her son’s absence. “We didn’t want him to sit in a bus for several hours. He is a very gentle boy, not used to the outside weather much. But once you’re with us, you can take care of him.”
    Kokila felt panic rise within her. They wanted her to take care of someone? She didn’t know how to take care of people. She knew how to play in the afternoons and lie down at night and gaze at the stars.
    “And you can cook, right?” her mother-in-law asked, and she didn’t seem all that sweet anymore. “Your father said you were a very good cook.”
    My father lied, Kokila wanted to scream. She didn’t know how to cook. Subhadra did all the cooking in the ashram.
    “You cook your good food for Vamsi and he’ll leave his delicate nature behind,” her mother-in-law said with an all-knowing smile.
    Kokila nodded vaguely and turned her head to look at Charvi, who was sitting quietly, looking older than her twenty-two years. There were already streaks of gray in her hair and a small droop to her eyes. Subhadra said that since Charvi’s soul was that of an ancient, wise goddess, it sometimes showed on her face.
    Kokila’s father-in-law cleared his throat to halt his wife from speaking further.
    “We would like to leave today evening, after tiffin,” he said. “Pack your bags and be ready.”
    “Subhadra is making your favorite, masala vada, for tiffin,” Charvi said, and rose to put a hand on Kokila’s hair. “We will all miss you.”
    “Yes, we will,” Ramanandam Sastri said as he came into the room.
    Kokila started trembling when she saw him. He promised, she told herself, and then turned to look at her in-laws, her eyes bright with tears.
    “You will come back and see them again,” her mother-in-law assured her. “Don’t worry. I know it’s hard to leave but you will have a nice house and a husband.”
    Kokila saw Vidura and Chetana hovering by the door into Charvi’s living quarters. They were holding hands.
    Kokila turned and looked at Ramanandam Sastri. “I don’t want to go,” she said tearfully.
    “Of course you don’t,” her mother-in-law snapped, her patience appearing to depart. “But you must. You are a married woman. You can’t stay at some pitiful ashram for the rest of your life.”
    “I don’t want to go to your house,” Kokila said, spurred by anger that someone who knew nothing about