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It was a tense autumn the year Mayura came away from her husband saying she was never ever returning to that uncouth, lustful monster. Everyone in the family was affected by her presence to a greater extent than they had thought likely. A sense of collective guilt emasculated the men even while they lectured her on the moral duty of returning to her wedded husband. A sense of outrage mingled inexplicably with a sense of secret sorrow alienated women from themselves and from each other. No one knew what to make of her or of themselves. And meanwhile, she moved as though nothing, nobody, could touch her. And those who thought they had, retreated, scorched.

Using a deceptively simple and intimate style, Parameswaran explores the subtleties of love, marriage, sex, and family life in a changing Indian environment.

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