Taking long strides, Viji quickened her pace. She took the tip of her dhavani to wipe the sweat trickling down her neck and forehead. She had just reached the Odiansalai roundabout and quickly glanced at the liquor shop by the corner of the street just before Newton Theatre.
The shiny clock on the wall showed 5 pm. The young girl turned right before heading straight to her neighbourhood. She went past curious onlookers scouting around the cinema hall.
There were very few people there, mostly men roaming around, smoking and looking at an enticing poster of a Malayali film. In it, the popular actress Shakeela was sitting on a tiny stool that was barely visible beneath her curves. Her wet paavadai was clinging to her elephant-like body, inciting sighs from thousands of men across the country.
The pink plastic bucket placed in front of her looked miniscule. She was holding a pot in her right hand, pouring water over her head. In the backdrop, one could see a silhouette of a masculine face watching over.
The film looked promising. Viji lowered her head while passing by, avoiding eye contact with those randy men. However, some of them stopped to look at the poster and at her, whispering lasciviously.
Disgusted, she quickly walked past them. She looked up only upon reaching the Sri Ram Hotel. The sun was slowly fading into the horizon behind the rice fields of Ozhukarai.
The trees from the botanical garden looked paralysed under the tyranny of the sun god. Looking through the grill,.
