‘So do you, Nala. And you’re wrong about me,’ he said after a long moment. ‘I don’t want her to be like me. I want her to study medicine because she may need to help her husband, when we find him for her. The world is changing and the financial burdens of life may be too much in the future for a man to carry alone. It was easier in my day, but those days are over. I know that now.’

She nodded slowly. Priya was a smart girl; she would get the marks she needed. She might have to repeat her A-levels, but she would get in eventually. After that, she would marry and have children, so would it make any difference what she studied or didn’t study, or whether she fainted at the sight of blood or not? As long as she married well. She said a quick prayer to Amman, the Mother Goddess, Please let her marry well. She added, for Rajan’s sake, and please let her get into medical school.

•

Priya looked down at her hands, the fingers of one pushing back the cuticles of the other, exposing the half-moons of every ridged nail.

‘I wouldn’t be very good at medicine, Amma.’ She blinked back hot tears as she argued with her mother.

‘Mahal, please don’t cry. Appa has made up his mind.’ Nala started to cry too.

‘Tell him Nandan will study medicine. I’ll talk to Nandan, I’ll tutor him, there’s still time. Appa would prefer it if it was Nandan; someone to carry on the family name and profession,’ she implored, silently cursing her little brother and his ridiculous career plans. Most recently the little maharajah had declared he was going to be an international cricketer or a businessman.

‘It’s not about that. Your Appa wants you to have a career that could help your family, if you need to.’

Priya tried again, knowing it was futile. ‘Force Nandan, Amma—make him study. We all have to.’

‘I can’t, mahal,’ Amma replied.

‘No, of course you can’t. You won’t make him do anything; he’s so precious.’

‘That’s not fair, Priya.’ Nala’s tears fell faster, but Priya refused to feel sorry for her mother.

‘I would be much better at home economics. Maybe even teaching—Kamini mami says I would make a wonderful teacher.’ She had written to colleges in Colombo and Kandy. She had a plan but was too afraid to ask Appa for permission.

‘Please, Amma, you speak to him. He might listen to you.’

Her mother simply replied, ‘What to do, mahal? You know what your father is like. He only wants the best for you. Please just hear what he has to say.’

Priya shook her head angrily. No one listened to her except Dhara and Ayah. She didn’t want to hear what her father had to say.

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