‘Rajan, I’d like to go to Annamalaiyar Temple.’ She didn’t wait for him to refuse; to make excuses about work. ‘Amma has agreed to look after Priya and walk her to kindergarten. Rita will visit the family every day to check on the house. Even the twins have promised they will come home on time so that Amma won’t be alone for long. And of course Ayah is here to supervise them all.’

He looked at her hard and she raised her face to his, ready for his response, his scorn.

‘Yes, we can go to Annamalaiyar, if you like. It’s supposed to be a beautiful temple. I’ll talk to the hospital about taking a little time off.’ He walked away, but she didn’t need more. She called Rita and made the travel arrangements for South India.

•

She looked sadly at the tree in the temple courtyard. Its magnificent branches were covered in tiny cradles, tied by other childless couples. Like her, they had made the pilgrimage to Annamalaiyar, a few hours from Madras. Like her, they had tied their cradles to the temple tree and prayed—begged—for a child. From a distance, the cradles looked like a flock of parrots, nestling in the boughs of the ancient branches. Each contained the last hope of thousands of women. Behind the temple, the dusty hills of Annamalai stood, watching the worshippers. Lord Shiva descended to the earth, on those hills. He took the form of a pillar of fire, bringing light to the world.

She said her final prayers as a hot wind lifted her cradle and the others, making them swing wildly. She stepped back from the temple tree. Maghizha—the tree had a name. She had given her children names too. As she tied the cradle to the temple tree, she told it what she had chosen for her next baby, if only Lord Shiva would hear her prayer. ‘Sivanandan’ she whispered, not daring to say it too loudly in case the evil eye heard her; in case the planets knew how she hungered. Amma said the planets could be fickle.

Rajan was waiting for her in the temple hall. It was called the hall of light, but as she stepped inside, it felt dark and cold. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see him, but there were too many people. They drifted in and out between the carved pillars that held the temple dome above them. Suddenly, someone took her hand and she pulled away, instinctively afraid.

‘It’s only me,’ Rajan said, dropping her hand. People didn’t touch at the temple. ‘Shall we go?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Thank you for bringing me here,’ she said quietly.

‘There’s no need to thank me, Nala. We both want the same thing,’ he replied.