By Sujatha Subramanian, Winner of Onlooker story contest, 1964

The women crowded around the bangle-man leaving their fires unattended. Valli hastily wiped her hands on the edge of her saree and joined them.  It had been quite a while since the bangle-man had come to their village and now as he took out his wares, eager faces inspected each item with relish. Rolls of glass bangles green, red and blue, some speckled with gold, shiny plastic boxes for Kumkum, combs of all sizes gaily coloured ribbons.  Valli handled some of them, touching them with loving fingers and passed them on to the woman next to her.

 It was then that he took out the mirror. Instantly Valli’s eyes were drawn to it. It  was as big as the span of a hand and had a painted red frame. “This one,”  she  pointed  ”How much is it?”   A rupee ..for you the bangle-man replied , polished the surface with a cloth and passed it to her. Valli took it in her hand and looked at herself. Her  eyes met those of the image and she smiled.  It was like meeting a dear friend. How long was it how many years since she had had a look in a mirror ! The smile transformed the thin bony  face with straggly hair . Valli preened herself with the mirror in her hand,  pushing the dry wisps of hair behind her ear, wiping a smudge of her cheek. Then reluctantly she handed it back and went into her hut.

The others still sat there talking and laughing , feasting their eyes on the colorful baubles.  The bangle-man began to pack up his wares. He hadn’t had any sales, for there wasn’t much money to buy pretty things these days. For quite a while now, there hadn’t been enough money for food and clothing in the village. The land was becoming arid and sterile, there was not enough produce to feed the people.

Valli sat in a corner darning a patch in her saree.  The mirror, she thought , how beautiful it was , all smooth and shiny, with that red frame like a border of the red earth which she used for drawing designs.  Would she ever be able to afford one ?“ “Tch”, she clucked her tongue, what kind of a life is this”. How pretty her face had looked in the mirror !

The bangle-man was on his feet at last,  the bundles slung over his shoulders. Valli  came to the door and watched him. Just this once. she thought just this one thing I want . Suddenly she undid a knot at the end of her sari and took out a few coins. “Here” she said handing them to the man. “This is all I have, will you give me the mirror?”. Her voice was tremulous with desire. The man looked at her face. He counted the money. There were twelve annas.

“ Alright” he said “but only for you” ..he lowered the bundles and picked out the mirror polishing it again with a cloth and gave it to her. Valli bore the precious mirror carefully in her hands and placed it in the triangular niche in the wall of her hut. She refrained from glancing at herself in the mirror and slowly began to dress up . She picked up a piece of broken comb and drew it through the tangled mass of hair and tied it up neatly in a knot.  She poured some water from the pot into her hands and washed her face ,wiping it with the edge of a sari and then applied a generous pinch of Kumkum to her forehead. She then  untied her sari and did it up again,  so that the patches were partly hidden. She went out and picked a wild flower from the hedge and placed jauntily on her hair. Only then did she go up to the mirror and look at herself. What she saw pleased her and she smiled into her own eyes.

There was a step at the door and Muthu came in sighing tiredly. With a light tread and a lighter stomach, Valli went forward to greet him. Muthu sensed something strange about the place and his eyes roved  round the hut taking in the cold fireplace and unused pots.

What’s the matter ?” he asked..” Why haven’t you cooked the food yet?” . “Didn’t you manage to get the rice ? “  Valli  fidgeted , her toes doodling  on the floor. “I gave you the money this morning, didn’t I “?  The bangle-man had come and I  bought this with the money you gave me said Valli hesitantly, pointing to the mirror.

“You what?”  Muthu raised his hand angrily to slap her. The look in her face stopped him. He thought of all that they had had to go through these last few months.. the days of hunger and hard work,  suffering and need. Not once had Valli uttered a complaining word. He looked at her radiant face now and thought,  sometimes a bunch of flowers satisfies more than a handful of rice. It was worth going hungry for one more day to bring a smile to this parched face.

His hand went out to stroke Valli’s cheek and he said. “you are very pretty”. He pulled out a handful of peanuts from his dhoti and gave some to her . They cracked the shells and ate them together laughing like children.