There was so much work and so little space with Baby and Nimita around. At six o’clock every morning, Gangabai, a massage lady, came for Nimita and Baby, and stayed for an hour. Gangabai was a tall, solidly built woman, with hands the size of banyan leaves. She would take her battered sandals off outside before entering the house.

Gangabai carried herself with a straight back and neck, with one end of her sari covering her head, and planted each step on the floor firmly but softly without making any noise. In the middle of her slightly raised, wide forehead she wore a red bindi as large as a betel nut. Gangabai wrapped her sari differently from us. She passed one end between her legs and tucked it in the back, creating a pair of pants. It gave her much more freedom to move around than the traditional Gujarati way of wrapping a sari around both legs together. As soon as she entered the apartment, she would head for the bedroom.

While Baby slept, Gangabai would give Nimita a massage. They spoke in low tones and I wondered what they were discussing. Then Nimita and Mummy would take their baths while Gangabai took care of Baby.

The first day I watched Gangabai, closely. Slipping her palm behind Baby’s neck, she picked Baby up with one hand. Her index finger supported Baby’s head and her big palm supported Baby’s shoulders and back, while Baby’s buttocks and feet dangled down. Sitting on the floor, she crossed her muscular legs at the ankles, undressed Baby, and laid Baby on her legs, facing up. Baby stared at Gangabai while Gangabai massaged her with almond oil and spoke to her in Marathi. As Gangabai talked, her large nose ring shifted back and forth, adding a language of its own. Once in a while she would try to speak in Gujarati. It was hilarious but I was afraid to laugh.

After the massage, Gangabai lifted Baby’s arms and legs and moved them in a circle, crossed them, uncrossed them, flexed, and extended them. I was afraid that she might hurt Baby.

I told Mummy, “You’d better watch Gangabai. She handles Baby like a rag doll.”

“I am not worried.”

“You don’t know what she does. While you’re taking a bath she twists and turns her arms and legs.”

“She did that to you too and you are in one piece,” Mummy said.

“She did?”

“Yes, all of you. From Nimita to Vivek, she gave you all your massages and baths for the first six months of your lives, and she probably knows more about how to handle a new mother and a baby than a gynecologist or a pediatrician.”