Ethan was in front of her. “I know a shortcut,” he said.
They ducked under a stone gate. She caught a glimpse of a chubby gargoyle above her head, its tongue sticking out and laughing. The face of a baby. “Minoo,” she whispered under her breath, “why’d you have to leave so soon?”
“What did you say?” Ethan called back.
“I said, how long?”
“A minute or two, at most.”
They strode faster. Safia was nearly running to keep up. Her feet pounded cobblestone; the soles of her shoes felt as flimsy as paper. The roar traveled up her legs, burst across her back like a scream. Her body, her body, her oh so lonesome body ceased. She ceased. And all that existed was her stone, her feet, her flight. That West African boy had been right: her friend’s straw-colored hair, its glint of gold, was the light of the world. But she—she and he—they were the dark beyond. They were the universe, entire.
Ethan, turning a corner, was a blur. A few steps in front. He said something over his shoulder. What was it? Just two words—and she asked him to repeat them because they were true, they were the only truth left in the world.
“I said, ice cream,” he said, taking in deep mouthfuls of air. “I think she would’ve preferred ice cream.”
The tears streamed down Safia’s face. She nearly laughed.
Why? Why a pebble, why a baby, why a distant shore? Why did they all have to disappear into a brown and murky depth?
There was no answer.
There were only those two words. And they held her as if in an embrace.
Ethan’s arm swung back and she knew that soon, one day soon, she would take it. Take it, hold it, pull him to her and say, Enough. This moment is enough. How young we are. How old our sorrow. I want to wake. I want to wake as lovers are meant to wake. And this grief: this grief we must leave. Leave in one of the many airports we will pass, maybe a train station in the Alps, a bus depot in Rome. Leave, because it is not meant for us. Leave, before it has a name. Before we give it room. Before we seat it, like a friend, at our table.
“There,” Ethan said, pointing to the monastery. But it was on the other side of the long square. The lights had been turned off. The dim of the doorway narrowed. “Run!” he shouted.
And so she ran.
Her old grandfather: sitting alone, quiet all of these years, in a London flat. She understood now. She saw him: a boy of nine, alone in the world. He’d begun again. Maybe she could too.
She sprinted faster. She could no longer feel her feet. Only her breath was left. Deep, pulsing with the power of kings. We leave. We leave the places we’re born, the places we’re meant to die, and we wander into the world as defenseless as children. Against such wilderness, such desert.
The warm night air cradled her, lifted her up. There was someone at the door; Ethan waved frantically. How long the journey, she thought. How far away that abode of peace. And yes, its doors may close. Its lights may dim. And it may not even be for us to enter. But this, Safia thought—running and running and running—this is how you begin.
GLOSSARY
aam: mango
almirah: wardrobe, cabinet
amchur: a tangy mango-based powder
anna: former monetary unit of India and Pakistan, equal to 1/16 of a rupee
ayananta: solstice
beedi: a thin, cheap cigarette popular in India
beti: girl
bhai: brother, friend
bhelpuri: a savory snack food made by combining puffed rice with other ingredients
biryani: an Indian dish made with highly seasoned rice and meat, fish, or vegetables
Brahmachari: bachelor
Brahmaputra: a trans-boundary river flowing through northeastern India
brahmin: a member of the highest caste in Hinduism, traditionally a priest
burqa: outer garment worn by women in some Islamic traditions
chai: spiced tea
chal: move
chappals: sandals or slippers
chikoo: tropical fruit
choot or chutia: a derogatory term for vagina, used to refer to a fool or useless person
chota: small or younger
chowkidar: security guard
chunni: a long piece of cloth that hangs over the shoulders to cover a woman’s chest, usually worn over a long tunic or shalwar
darajin: seamstress
dhoti: traditional men’s garment wrapped around the waist and legs, knotted at the waist
Ganesh: elephant-headed god in Hinduism
Ganga or Ganges: a trans-boundary river that flows through India and Bangladesh, considered sacred by Hindus
ghee: clarified butter
Gomti: a tributary of the Ganges River that flows through Uttar Pradesh
goonda: hired thug
gulabi: pink
gur: a brown, unrefined sugar
Hooghly: a distributary of the Ganges River that flows through West Bengal
ji: added to show respect at the end of a name, can be used alone but is most often a suffix
jilebi: a chewy sweet made from deep-fried batter soaked in sugar syrup
kaffir: derogatory term for a black African
katwa: derogatory term for a Muslim man
kheer: rice pudding
khusra: eunuch
kumkum: red powder used to adorn the images of deities; also used for the red dot placed in the center of the forehead, generally indicating a married or marriageable woman
kurta: traditional form of upper garment worn by men and women
kya baat hai?: What is the matter?
Laddu or laddoo: ball-shaped sweets, usually made from flour, coconut, or semolina
lassi: a yogurt-based drink, served sweet or salty
lehenga: a long flowing skirt worn by young women and girls
lungi: a kind of sarong worn by men in parts of South Asia
machher jhol: Bengali spicy fish stew
malik: tribal chieftain or local aristocrat
mangal sutra: a sacred necklace that a groom ties around a bride’s neck; it is rarely taken off
memsahib or memsab: term used in colonial times to refer to a upper-class white woman; now used to refer to any upper-class woman
moorkh: idiot
nahi: no
nakaam: worthless or useless
nanaji: maternal grandfather
nimbu pani: lemonade
pagal: crazy person
paisa: unit of currency, equal to 1/100 of a rupee
pakora: a snack food made by dipping various vegetables in chickpea flour batter and frying them in oil
palloo: the free end of the sari, usually draped over the shoulder
paneer: a fresh cheese common in South Asian cuisine
papad: a thin, fried disc made of lentils, generally, and served as an accompaniment to a meal
paratha: a layered flatbread, sometimes stuffed with vegetables or meat
pulao: a rice dish, similar to pilaf
puri: deep-fried bread made of wheat flour
randi: prostitute
Ravi: trans-boundary river flowing through northwest India and eastern Pakistan, eventually draining into the Indus River in Pakistan
rossogolla: dessert made of white spongy cheese balls suspended in sugar syrup
roti: flatbread made from wheat flour
rupee: unit of currency
Sabarmati: a river in Gujurat, in western India
sadhu: Hindu mystic, sage
safaiwala: laborer
sahib: term used in colonial times to refer to an upper-class white man; now used to refer to any upper-class man
samosa: fried pastry filled with spiced potato or meat
sari: traditional dress that is wrapped around the waist and draped over the shoulder
sasurji: father-in-law
shalwar kameez: tra
ditional dress featuring a long tunic over loose-fitting pants
subzi: curry
tehsil: a unit of government in India and Pakistan equal to a county
topee: hat
uptan: paste made out of natural ingredients, often turmeric and rosewater, applied to the bride’s face and body as part of the pre-wedding beautification ritual
wallah: used as a suffix, indicating the activity in which the person is engaged
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am deeply indebted to Ritu Menon and Kamla Bhasin’s Borders and Boundaries: Women in India’s Partition. My gratitude to Sandra Dijkstra and Elise Capron for their unstinting belief in me, along with Michael Krasny, for that first flight. My utmost thanks to my editor, Amy Einhorn, for making this journey possible. Caroline Bleeke has been a thoughtful guide and editor. I am also grateful to Liz Keenan and Marlena Bittner, and everyone at Flatiron Books, for their support and encouragement.
My sincerest thanks to dear friends and early readers of this collection: Jared Roehrig, Nate Waggoner, Joel Young, Matt Heitland, and to my teachers, Peter Orner and Nona Caspers, along with the entire Creative Writing Department at San Francisco State University. Over the years, Joy Viveros has been a rare and luminous friend and mentor. I am also grateful to the Elizabeth George Foundation, Nimrod International Journal, and of course to Chris Abani. Thank you for believing in me. As for Hedgebrook, Amy Wheeler and all the people who make that beautiful place possible, my time spent there was truly the beginning of all things.
Over the years, innumerable friends have lent their support and many kindnesses. Among them, Maya Vasudevan, Zakia Afrin, Melissa Passafiume, Adam Bad Wound, Emily Doskow, Luan Stauss, Vandana Sharma, Ian Valvona, and Natalie Nevard. Tom Doskow has been an invaluable friend. Donald Tibbs, Deborah Costela, and Philip Schultz have buoyed me in times of storm. I would also like to thank Leigh Ann Morlock. Sierra Golden has been a trusted reader and friend. And, of course, my heartfelt thank-you to Meredith May. I was never alone in the darkest of woods.
My gratitude, also, to my family: Sridevi, Venkat, Siriveena, and Samanthaka Nandam. As well as Bhagya and Ramarao Inguva. And finally, this book could not have been written without Srinivas: I asked for a small, lighted corner of the world—you gave me a blazing universe.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shobha Rao moved to the United States from India at the age of seven. She is the winner of the 2014 Katherine Anne Porter Prize in Fiction, awarded by Nimrod International Journal. She has been a resident at Hedgebrook and is the recipient of an Elizabeth George Foundation fellowship. Her story “Kavitha and Mustafa” was chosen by T. C. Boyle for inclusion in The Best American Short Stories 2015. She lives in San Francisco.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Author’s Note
An Unrestored Woman
The Merchant’s Mistress
The Imperial Police
Unleashed
Blindfold
The Lost Ribbon
The Opposite of Sex
Such a Mighty River
The Road to Mirpur Khas
The Memsahib
Kavitha and Mustafa
Curfew
Glossary
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
AN UNRESTORED WOMAN. Copyright © 2016 by Shobha Rao. All rights reserved. For information, address Flatiron Books, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.flatironbooks.com
The following stories have been or will be published. Previously published stories may appear in a slightly different form in this book.
“Kavitha and Mustafa,” Nimrod International Journal (volume 58, winter 2014)
“The Imperial Police,” Wasafiri (UK, forthcoming)
“Unleashed,” Water~Stone Review (August 2014)
“An Unrestored Woman,” PMS poemmemoirstory (issue 13, spring 2014)
“The Road to Mirpur Khas,” Tincture (Australia, issue 2, winter 2013)
“The Lost Ribbon,” The Missing Slate (Pakistan, April 2013) and The Four Quarters Magazine (India, August 2013)
Cover design by Karen Horton
Cover art: woman © Bjorn Holland / Getty Images; floral pattern © Helen Lane / Shutterstock
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for the print edition is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-07382-2 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-07383-9 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781250073839
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
First Edition: March 2016
Reading Group Guide available at: us.macmillan.com/reading-group-gold