This is a story that will throw you from laughter to tragedy and from tenderness to horror. Geeta finds herself unwittingly leading a group of gritty women in a murderous plot to escape their husbands and the stereotypes and injustices endowed by gender, caste and poverty. Be prepared for scenes of domestic violence and rape.
Geeta nodded in earnest. 'Exactly. No one’s gonna believe we’re murderers. But you know we are. You’ve seen what I’m capable of.' Men like him would always look at her and see the things they were glad they weren’t: weak, small, timid, powerless. Let them. She’d expended so much energy vying for a broken seat at an even table. Fuck it, she’d make her own table.
