“Saloni alone met her eyes, and though Geeta recognized the scorn as easily as she would her own face, at least it was some manner of acknowledgment. A response, however negative, to the space Geeta occupied in this world, in their village, in their community.”

At the beginning of the novel, Geeta is an outcast, having lost her husband and even her best friend, Saloni. The rumors are that Geeta has killed Ramesh, or at least driven him away by actions of her own doing; he is innocent in his absence, while she must bear the burden of it. The rare acknowledgment of her existence is welcome.

“Contrary to neighborhood chatter, she did not ‘remove her own nose ring’ by killing Ramesh. She never had any desire to destroy him, just parts of him. The part that drowned himself in drink, the part that was quick to fury but slow to forgive, the part that blamed her for their childlessness, though it could’ve just as easily been him.”

Geeta herself knows that she is innocent. She is also painfully aware that she is not the only one who knows of Ramesh’s past abuse; the entire village knows that he was physically and verbally abusive, and yet Geeta again bears the responsibility for this. For many women in this heavily patriarchal society, this is the price to pay for the passing affection and “protection” of a husband.

“Of course she didn’t believe him. Saloni was hers. They weren’t just on the same team, they were the same player. Their victories doubled, the losses halved; loyalty was as given as gravity.”

After Ramesh suggests that Saloni is jealous of Geeta’s relationship with him, Geeta initially scoffs, but Ramesh’s words poison Geeta’s thoughts eventually. The simile here—that loyalty is like the law of gravity, unyielding—ironically turns out to be true, though the two women must go through a period of separation and reunion in order to accept this, especially Geeta.