BooksBarbecue
Back Side by Side Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Half Title Page
  3. SIDE by SIDE
  4. Dedication Page
  5. Epigraph
  6. Part I: Fall
  7. 1.
  8. 2.
  9. 3.
  10. 4.
  11. 5.
  12. Part II: Crawl
  13. 6.
  14. 7.
  15. 8.
  16. 9.
  17. 10.
  18. 11.
  19. 12.
  20. 13.
  21. 14.
  22. 15.
  23. 16.
  24. 17.
  25. 18.
  26. 19.
  27. 20.
  28. 21.
  29. 22.
  30. 23.
  31. 24.
  32. 25.
  33. 26.
  34. 27.
  35. 28.
  36. 29.
  37. 30.
  38. 31.
  39. Part III: Rise
  40. 32.
  41. 33.
  42. 34.
  43. 35.
  44. 36.
  45. 37.
  46. 38.
  47. 39.
  48. 40.
  49. Acknowledgements
  50. About the Author

As she closes her eyes, she dips into the pain—raw, bruised, slippery. This pain she can manage. This pain she knows she deserves.

When the roar of pain tapers to a whisper, Kavita slowly lets the night back into her eyes, and peers into her pitted palm, watching with detachment as blood pools and drips. Her throat aches. Her chin trembles. Hot tears slip down her cheeks.

She straightens her sore legs, pushing up from the squat, and lifts her tearful gaze to the smoky night sky. Sunil’s face raises the silver topography of the moon. Is that where he has been? Watching them from on high? Shuddering at what he has witnessed since he’s been gone? A charcoal puff of cloud slips across his eyes.

Shadows may obscure beams of moonlight, Kavita reasons, but the moon itself remains, waiting behind the veil for the darkness to move on. The moon is still the moon. It is always beautiful. Kavita thinks of Sunil, viewing from a distance the light masked by trouble, the silver beauty of his glow. That is what he deserves: To be remembered, with beauty.

The charcoal puff of a cloud drifts on. Moonbeams pour into her cold middle, filling it with silvery light. The empty space within her remains cold, but for now, not as lightless as before. She doesn’t wish upon a star at that moment. Instead, she vows to the moon, promising to reclaim beauty for Sunil, somehow.

23.

Kavita functioned through the next few days with the rigid mechanics of something made of more metal than flesh. The only time she felt much of anything at all was when she stood over Nani’s casket, but even then she was touched by greater disbelief than sadness, at the greying skin, the artificial plumpness of lips and cheeks, the husk without a soul to liven it, which left her thinking, That isn’t Nani. Nani isn’t here, and made Kavita realize she wasn’t either. To live was to feel. Survival was doing what was necessary to get by.

Now they are at Heathrow, saying their goodbyes at the security gate. She lets them hug her and peck her on the cheek, but she doesn’t feel any of it.

Normally, passing through security makes her anxious, especially in airports outside of Canada, where she somehow feels more conspicuously brown. Today, though, as she walks through the metal detector, and collects her things from the plastic bin, she breathes in ease, as if with every step she senses her humiliation shrink and shrink behind her. It’s over, she thinks. Soon she will be home again. Soon she will be safe.

They stop at a newsagent for water, gum, and magazines. While they wait in line, Nirav says, “I know our reason for coming was horrible. But it was a lovely trip in the end, wasn’t it?”