As I washed my feet at the tap I thought of the kerny, the watertap in my village, adjoining the temple. It was here that the deities were given their ritual baths at the culmination of the annual temple festivals. The rituals were long drawn out and milk, coconut water, sandalwood paste and kumkumum together with the juices of fresh fruit like lime were applied on the idols of the gods and goddesses before they were bathed in theerny. The nadhesweram, the conch and the cries of ‘Haro, Hara!’ heralded the event.

I rubbed one foot upon the other under the flowing water tap, washed my hands and walked up to the niches where Ganesh, Skanda, Amman and Kali looked out. The Brahmin priests were performing the poojas. My friend, the Brahmin priest from my village, Navaly, came up to me with the tray containing the split coconut halves, ripe plantain, tulsi leaves, flowers. He entered the sanctum and intoned the Sanskrit slokas. The inner room glittered with light. I glimpsed the bright gold which shone inside on the faces of Parvathi and Shiva, their bodies arrayed in brilliant silks and jewels. I prayed for the blessings of the gods for my family.

I wished I had come for the concert which was held when the Vishnu statue had been brought. My grandfather had held similar concerts in his home. In those days the artistes were given gifts of golden sovereigns for their virtuosity. All I had now was the portrait of my grandparents hanging on the walls of my home. Earrings glittered in my grandfather’s ears and jewelled rings encircled his fingers. My grandmother looked out of the portrait with her heavy, inscrutable face, her attiyals, padakkams, necklaces, mukukuththi, bracelets, earrings. Where was all this wealth now? The jewellery had come down from generation to generation and adorned my mother and my sisters in their turn. After the deaths of my grandparents, acre by acre, house by house, the greater part of the property had been sold by my mother’s guardian. Of the houses that were left, neither of them was any longer my home. There was nowhere to go back to. Now that my father was no longer alive there was nothing to take me back. I had stood on the seashore and, looking towards the land, thrown his ashes into the sea, then walked back swiftly towards the land …

I stood praying to Ganesh.