‘Shut up,’ she giggled. ‘And I’d suggest you learn a bit of Carnatic music. No,
stop, don’t get off the sofa.’ She gave me a flying kiss and I subsided back into
the sofa.
‘Dad is having a bad month at the bank,’ Ananya whispered. ‘He got passed
over for promotion. He deserved to head Bank of Baroda for his district but dirty
politics happened. And he hates politics.’
I didn’t mention the interest with which he read the AIADMK article. ‘Where is
your brother?’
‘He slept already. He wakes up early to study.’
We heard footsteps.
‘Be careful with Shobha aunty. Speak minimum,’ she said.
‘Why?’ I said as Ananya’s mother came to the living room again. She and her
guru walked towards the main door. Aunty had a disappointed expression.
‘Illa practice?’ the guru mumbled as Ananya’s mother spoke to him in Tamil.
The guru shook his head and left.
‘What?’ Ananya asked her.
‘Nothing. Where is your appa and athai? Let’s eat,’ Ananya’s mother said in a
serious tone.
Ananya’s father and aunt came to the living room. They carried more dishes
than their arms were designed for. I stood up to help. ‘Hello aunty, can I take
something!’
‘Wash your hands,’ uncle told me and pointed me to the kitchen.
We sat on the floor for dinner. Ananya’s father passed me a banana leaf. I
wondered if I had to eat it or wipe my hands with it.
‘Place it down, it is the plate,’ Ananya whispered.
‘Radha,’ Shobha aunty said in a stern voice as she pointed to her banana leaf.
It had specks of dirt on one side.
‘Oh, sorry, sorry,’ Radha aunty said and replaced it. It wasn’t different from
Shipra masi finding faults with my mother. Psycho relatives are constant across
cultures.
nora
(Nora)
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