Chapters (30)
Nala found herself resenting Rajan. Surely it was so much easier to love someone if you didn’t have to be with them all of the time. Every evening he came home, eyes barely glancing at her, searching instead for the baby. Before he touched her, he washed his hands, as if preparing for surgery, meticulously sanitising himself in a familiar routine. And then he held her, smelled her, tested her strength and motor function, tickled her and kissed her. The affection that Nala had to wrest from her husband was showered, like rice on a bride, over their child.
For Priya’s first birthday, they returned to Colombo and celebrated with the usual visit to the temple, followed by a gathering of family and friends. Nala had wanted to hire Saraswathi Hall for the event, but Rajan refused, declaring it an unnecessary expense. ‘It’s a birthday, not a wedding,’ he said. He was right, but she hadn’t been to Colombo for over a year, and there were so many people to see.
Priya was dressed in a French-lace frock with matching bloomers; a gift from Rita Matthews who had recently returned from a tour of the Continent. The baby spent most of the afternoon scratching and pulling on the frilled collar, until Rajan could bear her pain no longer, and ordered Ayah to change her into a simple cotton dress. Archi made an enormous butter cake for the guests. She had been baking batches for weeks and freezing them at the houses of friends. The night before the party she connected them together, gluing the pieces of cake with a rich mortar of butter icing.
Ayah and Amma were charged with the task of chaperoning the baby as she was passed from aunty to aunty. Nala put her foot down when Rajan tried to insist on a pre-holding handwashing rule. ‘It’s ridiculous and offensive. I don’t know about your relatives but there is nothing infectious about my family.’
With the baby safely entouraged and occupied, she was free to roam, a happy whirlwind of turquoise silk. People pressed gold sovereigns into her hands, gifts for Priya that Nala would save for her wedding dowry. They kissed her cheeks, told her she looked beautiful and asked her when she was planning another baby. She laughed off the question. They would start trying again soon, but Rajan wanted to wait. He said ‘higher rates of pregnancy increase the chances of maternal mortality and morbidity’, quoting from some research paper. She was, for once, very happy to defer to his superior knowledge on the matter. That night she enjoyed just being herself, without a baby at her breast or in her belly.
Before they left Colombo, Nala asked her mother for a favour. Rajan’s contract with Kandy Hospital ran for two more years and she needed help. Ayah packed a small suitcase and returned to the hill-country with her.