USHA
“What are you—what are you doing?” he shouted. “What have you done? How dare you come back here and practice your… your dark rituals. Get out!”
She looked behind her, but Muya was gone. “There was a demon in your home,” she said at last. Her voice trembled. “I came to help you.”
Joshi sahib laughed. “Demons? You think I believe in them? The British have shown us the foolishness of those beliefs. They have no power over me.”
“But—Muyalagan—” she protested faintly.
“You are a foolish, ignorant woman,” he said, in a tone so sweet it was poison.
“I came here to beg your forgiveness,” she said. “To apologize for what happened to your sister.”
“Because you want clemency?” He shook his head in long, slow movements. “It is good you see the error of your ways. But there will be no escape from your sins.”
And Usha knew she was doomed. That night, she didn’t sleep. She thought about running, but she was weak, her body too exhausted by the confrontation. Her mind whirled, searching desperately for a solution, but in the morning she was still answerless in Pune.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Radhabai.
Her aunt hugged Usha. “You have done nothing wrong, child. Whatever happens, we will figure it out.”
A prominent lawyer, Pandit Ranade, appeared at the door to escort her to the courthouse.
It wouldn’t matter, but she wished she knew who had sent for him, so she could thank them for their valiant efforts.
When they arrived, Pandit Ranade explained that this courthouse was nothing like the one in Bombay, that Pune’s court was informal.
But there was a judge seated at the dais, an officer swearing people in, and a translator present.
Usha looked around and saw the Joshis enter.
The wife had wrapped her shawl around her shoulders in a demure fashion, and Usha wished she had thought to do the same.
The judge held up a piece of paper, and the translator said, “I have here the examination report of Ahilya Joshi. It says that she suffered a perforation of her uterus in the commission of an abortion.”
“While that might be true, Ahilya Joshi did not suffer at the hands of this woman,” Pandit Ranade responded. “It was a rogue by the name of Deepak.”
“Will the witness come forward?” the judge asked, and with a sinking feeling Usha watched as the wife approached, her eyes downcast. After some pleasantries, the judge continued, “Do you know who provided your sister-in-law with an abortion?”
“I know she asked Usha tai.”
That was not an answer, and the judge seemed to recognize it. “Did this woman agree to provide it?”
“She said she would provide an abortion within two weeks,” she said. “And a week later, my sister-in-law was dead.”
“So she did provide the abortion?”
At last, she looked at Usha. Her face was sad, and a little bit angry. Usha could see the lie building in her eyes. I delivered your baby, Usha wanted to scream. I wanted to help your sister-in-law. You know that. You know that!
And as if the woman could hear her, she said, “No, a man by the name of Deepak did.” Joshi sahib jumped to his feet but was quickly blocked by a white man. He looked wild, furious. “Usha tai tried to save Ahilya’s life, but she could not. Perhaps it was her lack of skill.”
It was meant as a jab to placate her husband, but that didn’t matter. Usha turned to her lawyer, but he still looked pensive.
“But she was willing to provide the abortion?” the judge asked. “She said that?”
The woman looked confused. “Yes, of course. Usha tai provides abortions to many women.”
“Thank you,” the judge said. He turned to Usha. “Do you deny providing abortions?”
Usha was caught. If she lied, the wife’s words would still be considered more powerful than hers. But if she told the truth, she would be admitting to a crime. She had lost most things, but not her own self.
“I provide abortions,” Usha said simply.
“Are you aware that it is a crime?”
“I was not aware of it at the time,” Usha said.
“How could she be?” Pandit Ranade interrupted. “How could a working midwife be expected to know about the English laws passed in another country?”
The judge frowned. “This is the first time a woman has come before us for this crime, and I know it is not your custom to educate your women.” Usha’s lawyer shot her a sharp look, and she bit her tongue.
“But this is a particularly heinous crime. People ought to know that murder is wrong. Ordinarily, the punishment would be transportation.”
“Transportation? For a woman?” her lawyer cried out. “To send a woman out of her country alone… it is unthinkable. She is willing to pay a fine, that is appropriate for a first-time offense.”
“A fine alone is not sufficient for this crime,” the judge said. “A year in the women’s penitentiary, then.”
“Your Honor,” Pandit Ranade began, but the judge was already standing up to leave.
Joshi sahib came up to Usha as soon as the judge was gone, dragging his wife behind him with a grip tight enough to leave marks on her skin. “Do not ever show your face in this city again,” he barked.
“What did I do to you?” Usha asked. She could not even begin to comprehend what had just happened, that she had nearly been exiled, that she would go to prison. “I helped you, I—”
“You said no,” his wife replied in a voice quiet enough that only Usha could hear. The woman had put herself in a precarious position by acting against her husband’s plan and aiding Usha. His word was meant to be law.
“I imagine he has substantial financial interests to protect from the embarrassment of his sister’s actions,” her lawyer added coldly, his gaze piercing Joshi sahib. “Better the attention is on the midwife than his own family.”
“Don’t come back,” Joshi sahib repeated, his face red with rage.
Usha did not intend to. She saw it all clearly now.
Muya was a demon, but Joshi sahib was evil.
The British were evil. Muya had not been trying to get her arrested; she had been collateral damage when he tried to stop Deepak.
She had wronged him, while the ordinary humans she had been too naive to even suspect had engineered her downfall.
Usha looks at me, from over the woman’s shoulder. I can see her spirit is lighter despite her circumstances.
We can be forgiving.
I startle. Of all things, why that?
But Usha only smiles wider. Choose trust.