Unwanted Girl. MK Schiller

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      Although both women disagreed about Asha’s best attributes, clearly each loved her.

      Asha spoke English, Gujarthi, Hindi, and the village dialect fluently. Sarah supplemented her education by giving her books to read from both English and Indian authors. Asha didn’t mind she had no friends, because in many ways, the characters she read about became her closest companions.

      “One day, your brave prince will come, beta,” Nalini told her daughter, using the endearment for child. “Just as Rama came for Sita when the evil Ravana kidnapped her.”

      “I don’t want a prince to rescue me,” the child retorted.

      Nalini’s startled expression made the girl laugh.

      “Every girl wants a prince.”

      “Not me, Ma. I want to be the brave prince.”

      Her mother snorted, waving a reprimanding finger at her daughter. “Arey, silly girl, what nonsense you’re talking.”

      The girl, much too stubborn and headstrong for her own good, refused to denounce her views. “I’m going to be an astronaut like Sally Ride.”

      “Who?”

      “I’ll travel to the stars and bring back rocks for you, Ma.”

      “Why would I want rocks?”

      Asha shrugged. “They are from space.”

      “Have you gone mad? I think there are rocks in your head.” Nalini placed her hands on her hips. “Where are you getting such ideas?”

      Asha bit her lower lip, unsure if she should answer, but it was clear from her mother’s stern expression, an answer wasn’t required.

      The school building, a modern structure, contained a few tiny alcoves one could sit and go unnoticed. It was in one of these secret places, seven-year-old Asha curled up, hidden, as the two women in her life discussed her future. The little girl knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but surely, there were exceptions to this. They were discussing her, after all.

      It was rare the two women bickered, but on this topic neither refused to yield.

      “I have allowed you to educate her, but you are filling her head with dangerous ideas, Sister,” Nalini said, mixing her native tongue with the broken English Asha had taught her.

      Sister Sarah understood enough. Over the years, the two women had formed some understanding of each other’s language. A translator was no longer necessary.

      “She can be anything she wants. Why are you limiting her?”

      “She cannot. You paved a difficult path for her. Her future is already determined. She will marry and have children. That is the way here, and it is a good way.”

      Sister Sarah expelled a frustrated sigh. “It seems I believe in her more than you do.”

      “You know nothing, Sister. You give her hope she has no right to. Your beliefs will cause her great heartache.”

      Asha didn’t understand why they disagreed. If it made her mother happy, she would marry and have children. She could do that and be an astronaut on the side. The solution to the problem didn’t seem all that complicated, at least not to the little girl with two braids in her hair who hid in the alcove clutching a worn copy of The Secret Garden.

      * * * *

      Two years passed, but the women never resolved their disagreement. It always simmered in the background, threatening to boil over like the water she heated for her papa’s chai each morning.

      Asha ran to the school building, her braids flapping behind her. The Hindu festival of Holi, signifying the changing of the seasons, was her favorite holiday. She wanted to show Sister Sarah the pink and orange-colored powder on her dress.

      School wasn’t in session, but Asha knew Sarah would be in her little house behind the building. She often sat in the garden reading, and that’s exactly where Asha found her.

      She wasn’t alone.

      A tall white man sat with her sipping tea. She recognized him from the day before. Sarah had introduced him as a school benefactor. The child’s natural curiosity reached new heights yesterday when she’d laid eyes on the man, who was even paler than Sarah with fire-colored hair and eyes the same hue as the river, but much clearer in color. Asha had made him laugh.

      “Pleasure to meet you, sir,” she had said, borrowing phrases from a book she’d read.

      “Your English is impeccable, young lady,” he complimented.

      “Thank you, sir. So is yours,” Asha replied, managing a clumsy curtsey.

      He had flashed an amused smile. His straight teeth were blindingly white. “It should be. It’s my mother tongue, after all.”

      Asha’s mouth gaped in horror. “You stole your mother’s tongue?”

      The man had exchanged a look with Sarah before they both burst in laughter.

      Today, he wore an expensive linen suit and fancy hat, the kind she’d seen on movie stars. Although Sarah and he spoke English, his voice pronounced words in a clipped, delicate fashion. Asha hid herself behind the shrubbery. She’d never seen Sister Sarah yell. The scene was far too intriguing to let her conscious interfere with the fact she was eavesdropping again, despite Sarah’s stern warnings.

      “Don’t make me feel guilty,” Sarah said.

      “Is that what you think I’m doing, Sarah? I’m trying to make you see reason. I want to save you from this.”

      “This is where I belong.”

      He was quiet for a minute. “She’s a pretty girl.”

      “Beauty fades. Her best feature is her aptitude and intelligence.”

      “Does it even make a difference here?”

      “I believe it does.” Sarah pushed a newspaper toward him. “Have you read this?”

      “I can’t say I have. The local papers don’t make my required periodicals list. I doubt there’s an abundance of business news in it.”

      Sarah tapped the paper as if to drive in her words like nails. “Another girl was found in the jungle today. That’s six girls in one year, in this region alone.”

      “This has been going on for centuries. It’s culturally ingrained.”

      Sarah shook her head. “It’s an economic problem at its roots. Girls require a large investment, a debt that is never repaid. Boys, on the other hand, allow a family to prosper, bringing in additional income. The problem’s actually getting worse. It’s an epidemic.”

      “You can’t save all of them,” his said, clenching his perfect teeth.

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