Free Tanya Tania by Antara Ganguli Page A

were no tears in her eyes. She just stood there blazing at Bibi. It got very quiet.
    Then Chhoti Bibi swore and walked out. I was left standing there with Bibi who began to cry. I helped her to her room and made her lie down. I got some balm for her bruises. Her pillow turned wet under her cheek, her wrinkles forming rivulets. I’ve never seen Bibi cry before.
    It turns out that there was a marriage proposal from their village for Chhoti Bibi. Of course this is a huge thing because no one ever thought Chhoti Bibi would get married after what she did to the first guy. But Bibi had been sending home a lot of money and finally they had found a family with a boy who is slightly retarded.
    I think Bibi genuinely thought Chhoti Bibi would be happy. It’s amazing how little families actually know each other.
    I went outside to look for Chhoti Bibi but couldn’t find her anywhere. The gardener said she took off by the back exit and my old bicycle is missing. At first I thought it was funny—Chhoti Bibi in her huge salwar biking away angrily on a pink and white bicycle with My Little Pony handlebars. But it has been a few hours now and it is almost dark and she is not home.
    I’m sure she’s fine. She’s a smart girl. And she’s been in the city for a few months now. She knows our address. She must know it because she goes to buy groceries in the car with Bibi. She can be flighty sometimes though and I wonder if she paid attention. Knowing her, she was probably so thrilled to be in an air-conditioned car, she hadn’t noticed. And really, it has only been four months. Would I have known Clifton if I had only lived here for a year and that too as a servant? What if she has left Clifton? She has an unknowable number of cousins around the city in neighbourhoods I don’t know, whose names I only read in newspapers when bad things happen.
    I’m sure she’s fine.
    Love,
    Tanya

    February 15, 1992
    Bombay
    Dear Tanya,
    Today I got into a fight at school because stupid Aparna said I have no school spirit and I said fuck school and a Prefect was walking by, a total chaap who has never heard of shampoo or deodorants, and he said he was going to give me detention. I mean please. Prefects aren’t allowed to give detention, get a life! I told her that and she said, come with me right now come to the Principal’s office and I said make me and he actually grabbed my hand and tried to pull me but whatever I’m super strong and I burst out laughing and some spit landed on his arm and now he’s saying I spat on purpose. I have to talk to Ms. Kuruvilla tomorrow. Basically, I’m not getting Prefect next year.
    I came home and cried to Nusrat. She was so nice about it. I put my head on her lap and she put her arms around me and made those noises that she makes when she feels something a lot. She smelled really nice and her hands on my face were so cool and smooth and soft. How is it that she’s poor and doesn’t smell? I mean I’m not being a bitch, poor people don’t have money to buy deo. If I forget my deo for a day I smell. Nusrat is magic.
    I told my mom and she said that it didn’t matter because American colleges don’t care about Prefects.
    I want to go to Xavier’s College and study Psychology and then I want to have a big wedding where I’ll wear a tiny choli with a huge red ghaghra with gold all over it and dance on stage and everyone will be looking at me, even the gross fat uncles but no one will be able to say anything because it will be my wedding.
    And then Arjun and I will have our own house where I will paint the walls interesting colours and have sex everywhere. Arjun will do damn well in his business and I’ll be the hottest married woman in Bombay and I’ll wear whatever I want all the time and no one would be able to stop me because I’ll be married.
    I was mean in school today. Just regular stuff, stuff I’ve always