“Ramlal stood rooted to the ground, his head bowed low with the weight of grief and
shame.
The flames of the sacred fire slowly died down. Everyone was gone. Ramlal turned to
Bholi and said, “But what about you, no one will ever marry you now. What shall we do
with you?”
And Sulekha said in a voice that was calm and steady. “Don’t you worry, Pitaji! In your
old age I will serve you and Mother and I will teach in the same school where I learnt so
much. Isn’t that right, Ma’am?”
The teacher had all along stood in a corner, watching the drama. “Yes, Bholi, of
course,” she replied. And in her smiling eyes was the light of a deep satisfaction that
an artist feels when contemplating the completion of her masterpiece.”