It was one o’clock now and everyone was sleeping after lunch. He brushed his teeth quickly, tipping the Gopal’s Palpodi onto his new toothbrush, careful not to spill the blue powder. He liked the brushes: they were expensive but more effective than the margosa twigs he had used as a child, or the burned paddy husk he had used as a student. He checked his clock to make sure the alarm was set for two o’clock, took off his shirt and trousers, and pulled on his sarong. He lay down on the divan, closed his eyes but couldn’t sleep, troubled by the usual thoughts.

Prime Minister Bandaranaike’s Sinhala Only language policy had made Sinhalese the sole, official language of the entire country. The policy would change everything for the Tamils; the riots that killed Mohan were only the beginning.

Lying on the divan, Rajan willed his mind to pause on its fearful path; to let him rest for just an hour. He heard the study door open quietly and locked his fingers across his stomach, trying not to smile. Small feet padded slowly around the edge of the room. Lifting his eyelids slightly, he watched as they crept towards him. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from laughing. He should have stretched and warmed up his feet.

As Priya and Dhara stepped forward, he smiled. The little girls were focusing on his toes so intently they didn’t see his face as they reached out with tiny fingers. Priya suddenly remembered to look, but it was too late—his toes had spread open and then snapped shut, trapping them. His toes were almost as dextrous as his surgeon’s fingers, he thought proudly. The girls shrieked with laughter, waking up their Ayah, Nala and their new baby brother.

•

Nala and Ayah sat on the top step of the back verandah, each with a fine-toothed comb in their hands. Dhara and Priya perched on the lower step, squatting between the legs of the older women. Ayah muttered in Sinhalese as she pulled the comb quickly through Priya’s hair. She isolated and captured the lice, squeezing them between yellow thumbnails. As she crushed yet another insect to its death, the satisfying popping sound it released made her snort victoriously. She flicked the body away. Her feet were littered with the corpses of her handiwork.