THE DAYS ROLLED by, one after another. Autumn passed, and now even winter was nearing its end.

Since Durga’s death, Shorbojoya had been prodding her husband to leave this village for good. In fairness to her husband, Horihor had made several attempts to find a new place to settle in. But arranging a permanent livelihood was difficult business, and none of his efforts had borne fruit. Finally, after an autumn and winter of hoping and waiting, Shorbojoya had all but given up.

In the meantime, life in the village continued. The widowed wife of Neelmoni Roy—Horihor’s former neighbour and late cousin—had arrived in Contentment at the beginning of winter. She had been staying at Bhubon Mukhujje’s home, since her husband’s family home had become derelict and overgrown in his years of absence. Horihor, of course, had offered his cousin’s wife his own spare rooms, but she had declined.

Two of Neelmoni Roy’s three children had accompanied their mother: Awtoshi, a girl of about fourteen, and Shuneel, a boy of eight. Her eldest, Shuresh, was enrolled in an English-medium school in Calcutta, and wouldn’t be able to join the family till the beginning of his summer holidays. The general consensus about the two children was that neither was particularly attractive. Awtoshi was more pleasing to the eye than her brother, but even she wasn’t exactly beautiful. However, they both had robust physiques. People attributed it to their childhood in Lahore, where—thanks to their father’s job at the commissariat—they had lived till recently.

When the family first arrived at the village, Shorbojoya had attempted to establish a relationship with her rich sister-in-law. The information that Shuneel’s mother was the outright owner of ten thousand rupees in cash and shares had commanded her immediate awe, and she made several determined attempts through the winter to get closer to the woman. Neelmoni Roy’s widow, however, had absolutely no interest in her husband’s poorer relations. She had made it clear, right from the beginning, that she considered herself and her children far above the rural branch of the family, and indeed above much of Contentment. Unlike these men who lived off inherited land, her husband had always held positions of influence within the government. The life of urban affluence she and her children were used to simply didn’t compare with this dull village life. Even amongst the well-off families of the village, her children were set apart by their clothes, speech and manners. Neither of them left home at dawn for games or errands. They waited sedately till breakfast hour and their first cup of tea. Despite her youth, Awtoshi was never seen without a gold necklace, gold earrings and gold bangles. No matter what the hour, there was never a spot, stain or blemish on their faces or clothes, and their hair was always perfectly combed. Neelmoni Roy’s widow had even brought along a servant from the west to do all her housework for her—such was the extent of their prosperity.

In short, the