‘He is, he takes his duty very seriously,’ Priya replied. They both laughed. ‘Did you get my letter? I’m sorry it was so long. I feel silly complaining to you; work and playground politics are so trivial.’

‘No, Acca, I love it. I told you I want to know everything about your life—about her. The more details the better. The photographs were beautiful. Smrithi is changing so quickly. It just happens, doesn’t it?

‘And Vivek, he’s so tall; he must get that from Siva’s side. I feel like I’m there with you. It means … so much to me, more than I can say. Thank you for that. I posted my letter yesterday.’

‘Good, I can’t wait. You don’t need to thank me, Dhara. You are here with me,’ Priya said quietly. She needed those blue aerograms too.

‘Is that Dhara mami?’ Vivek asked, reaching up for the phone. ‘Let me speak to her, let me.’ He squeezed himself in front of Smrithi.

‘In a moment, darling. Give me some time first, please.’ She tried not to push her children away. She just needed more time; there was never enough. The years apart moved too quickly but each day passed slowly. Every Friday when she put the phone down, she counted the days until the next call.

CHAPTER 12

Colombo, 1979

‘My darling Dhara, I miss you. Smrithi is beautiful …’

Dhara read the letter over and over again until she had memorised it. Like all the others, Priya’s letters began the same way. They ended the same way too: ‘Please let me tell her. I love you dearly, Acca.’

In between, Priya chronicled the small moments of Smrithi’s life: the first steps and words, things that made her laugh and cry, games she liked to play, books she wanted read to her, food she loved and food she spat out.

Priya described the way her hair grew and curled up at the nape of her neck, writing, ‘I think she’ll have thick, curly hair like you,’ and the way she tugged her earlobe in her sleep instead of sucking her thumb. She sent photographs and childish drawings of swirls and random lines, sometimes prints of a small but growing hand.

After Smrithi’s first haircut, Priya sent several locks of hair. Dhara touched the hair and closed her eyes, imagining as she sometimes did that she was holding her child. She put her arms out, then adjusted her embrace; Smrithi would be smaller. But so much bigger than she was before.

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