The Slave Bride

By Lisa Torcato

Lakshmi is the youngest daughter of poor north-Indian rice growers, who is sold into marriage to a southern Indian. In a fluid and fast-paced prose, Lakshmi's trajectory weaves with disrespect and violence. She is forced to labour eighteen hours a day, give birth to children she did not choose and carry the burden of captivity. Her story may be one in thousands, but Lakshmi will stoically endure her lot up to the time she envisions the opportunity to grab her destiny in her own hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Torcato
• Release date: Nov 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005354152

Lisa Torcato

Lisa Torcato comes from a half-Indian family. She graduated in History and got a Master degree in British Empire. She has worked as an English and History teacher at high schools. She got married to a Norwegian and moved to Norway, where she’s lived for three years. Writing has been her passion since she was thirteen. When she manages to leave her computer for a while, she enjoys cooking and family time. She’d love to hear from you: [e-mail]

Book preview

Copyright

The Slave Bride

Copyright 2015 Lisa Torcato

Published by Lisa Torcato

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

Editor

Leslie Engleton

Cover Art

Jo singleton

Table of Contents

Copyright

Table of Contents

From the Back Cover

Map of India

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

About the Author

From the Back Cover

Lakshmi is the youngest daughter of poor north-Indian rice growers, who is sold into marriage to a southern Indian. In a fluid and fast-paced prose, Lakshmi's trajectory weaves with disrespect and violence. She is forced to labour eighteen hours a day, give birth to children she did not choose and carry the burden of captivity. Her story may be one in thousands, but Lakshmi will stoically endure her lot up to the time she envisions the opportunity to grab her destiny in her own hands.

Map of India

Chapter One

Mother and daughter squat on the dusty ground before a mound of irregular rocks sheltering a wood fire. Over it, a rounded crock gave out an appetizing aroma of curry. Lakshmi Kumar, the fifteen-year-old daughter, semi-closed her deep dark eyes and let herself inhale the stew pleasantly. Her nostrils registered each spice, every single nuance of rich flavour, each ingredient, anticipating exactly how it would taste. Her mother taught her all she knew about cooking. A patient guide to the girl, she expected a meticulously correct result from her child. Lakshmi did not disappoint, she promised to be one of the best cooks of her village, far into the Bengali state in North India.

Not that her Ma[1] had not done the same to her elder daughters, who had already had their marriages arranged and lived in villages nearby. Lakshmi had no doubt she would follow in a couple of years. Devi and Prakash Kumar, her parents, would see to that. The teenager knew they, poor farmers that they were, would struggle to gather a dowry, as was the custom. Almost all the family's assets went to her sisters.

Lakshmi took pride in being a good daughter and worked either at home or in the family's small paddy field, not far from the village. She also attended the village school, having no trouble being one of the best in her class. She should be in shape to find a good husband within her caste; millenary customs were hard to die, as everyone knew. What's more, a daughter that did not marry was considered a disgrace to her family.

"You will make a very accomplished bride, meye. Her mother told her approvingly, after tasting the curry. He will be a lucky man who marries you."

"Thank you, Ma!" Lakshmi smiled back.

She dreamed of the day that she found a good Bengali young man to marry, have her own house and her children. They would make a happy family working together and living daily life in a nearby village.

Now, the October warm sunset peacefully, as Lakshmi sat on a fallen tree trunk in front of her humble thatched house, chores already completed. The ripe paddy fields stretched ahead, sheltered by the thickets in the horizon, hazy against the fading light. Harvest would start soon and there would be no spare moment for gazing the twilight. The time of the year she liked best, December, when the weather became fresh, the hardest part of the year done, as she could concentrate in school and the occasional chat with her class-mates.

Glossy long hair protected by a worn-out sari, she contemplated her surroundings when she felt a twitch on her right hand. Gazing down unhurriedly, she found a tiny ant climbing her tawny skin with its hair-breath paws tickling her. The girl looked at the lone insect and felt her skin react to its explorations. She smiled with the twitching and the smallness of the creature. She let the dark dot progress up her forearm, amazed at how her skin could feel every minuscule step. Funny how she had never noticed that before.

Voices in the distance attracted her attention. She rose her head to see who it was. Not far in the dusty track surrounding the village, neighbouring boys returned form the fields nearly ready for harvest. As they approached, she saw Naveen. Her heart started and her face felt warm. She pulled her sari a little further over her head so that he would not see how glad she felt to see him.

Naveen Pathak lived in the next village. His parents had a bigger field and the family stood higher in the neighbours' regard. Taller than her, but not so tall, seventeen, sleek hair and dark eyes. She thought him very handsome in his simple Punjabi, a tunic and loose pants. As he passed by with his mates, she lowered her eyes bashfully. An unattended girl could not talk to a boy unless he talked to her. If he did, she would be mortified with her natural shyness. Still, she dared lift her eyes and look at him from under her lashes, hoping he did not see it. Oops, he was looking at her as well. Her cheeks felt hotter. She lowered her eyes once again to focus on the little ant and its promenade. The voices faded away and she breathed