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Chapters (30)
  1. Cover Page
  2. THE GITA
  3. ATTRITION
  4. CHAPTER 1
  5. CHAPTER 2
  6. CHAPTER 3
  7. CHAPTER 4
  8. CHAPTER 5
  9. CHAPTER 6
  10. CHAPTER 7
  11. CHAPTER 8
  12. CHAPTER 9
  13. DISPERSION
  14. CHAPTER 10
  15. CHAPTER 11
  16. CHAPTER 12
  17. CHAPTER 13
  18. CHAPTER 14
  19. CHAPTER 15
  20. CHAPTER 16
  21. CHAPTER 17
  22. CHAPTER 18
  23. CHAPTER 19
  24. CHAPTER 20
  25. GRAVITATION
  26. CHAPTER 21
  27. CHAPTER 22
  28. CHAPTER 23
  29. CHAPTER 24
  30. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Rajan said keeping the rice for decades was either unhygienic or scientifically impossible, twenty-five years being too short a time for the grains to have ossified into permanent preservation. His heart was ossifying. Her mother’s rice was as fresh as the day she had been given it, and it had nothing to do with hygiene or science. It was a miracle. She could feel her mother as she emptied the jar onto her bed and spread the grains out. She opened the window, allowing the cool evening breeze in. It carried the scent of wet earth from the garden. She wished the smells of her home would seep underneath the skin of the husk. She wanted to store her memories for another twenty-five years, opening Amma’s jar from time to time to breathe and remember.

She put the rice back in the jar and closed the lid tightly. Her daughter had told her not to bring any food items to Sydney; the customs officials were very strict. She only hesitated for a moment before rebelliously packing the jar in the chest. She looked at the set of spoons in their blood-red velvet box. She traced the sharp lines of the carved handles and lightly touched the jewels. Then she emptied the spoons into her bedside table drawer and placed the fragile remains of a small yellow kite in the box. It had soared once, hopeful and strong.

Finally, she looked at her saris. There was no way this could be done. She lifted her wedding sari gently—that had to be packed carefully. It was thirty-eight years old and made fragile by time, unlike her. One day, she thought, she would use it in the wedding ceremonies of her grandchildren. She smiled—things wouldn’t be so bad over there. She would be with her children and, more importantly, her grandchildren. She placed her wedding sari in the large camphorwood chest and surveyed her room once more.

CHAPTER 14

Sydney, 1984

Nala had been to Australia once before, in 1978, when Priya brought Smrithi back to Sydney. Her impressions of the country were limited to a small apartment, a paediatrician’s office and an airport.

Her daughter described the local shops as a large mall, which contained clothing boutiques, a supermarket, a few hairdressers, offices and so on. This off-hand but detailed description had made her apprehensive about her first appearance.