In generations to come, the islanders would remember that night, when they were punished by Hanuman, the son of the Wind God Vayu and the greatest devotee of Lord Rama. The islanders would remember when they were punished for the crimes of their leader; when Lanka burned.

CHAPTER 10

Colombo, 1977

When they received the call, Rajan went to Jaffna Hospital leaving Nala behind. He wouldn’t allow her to join him. In Jaffna, he cared for the girl until she was able to travel back.

She ate in her room when she ate at all. She spent her days with Nala and Ayah, watching them cook or just sitting in the drawing room, reading. Rajan brought her a wheelchair from Colombo General.

Initially, only Carlo could touch her. Almost blind, he would put his great head in her lap, snorting and salivating kisses all over her. She would play with his velvet ears, and once Nala saw her bend down, put her arms around him and weep into the warm scruff of his neck.

Every night Nala slept with her, perched on the far side of the bed. She turned the lights on when the screaming started. One evening Dhara allowed Nala to hold her.

‘I’m so sorry this happened to you,’ Nala whispered wrapping her arms gently around her. She had wanted to say that for so long.

‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault,’ the girl replied. ‘Hush now, mami, don’t cry.’

•

Rajan, Nala and Nandan ate dinner in silence as they had every night since Dhara’s return. Nandan cleared his throat conspicuously. He tried to speak but caught himself and cleared his throat again. Ayah came running from the kitchen and thumped him hard on the back.

‘Nandan Baby, Nandan Baby, are you choking? What’s the matter?’ she asked anxiously in Sinhalese. He was twenty-one years old but time had frozen for Ayah where her young charge was concerned.

‘I’m fine, Ayah, thank you. It’s just a tickle,’ he replied, laughing nervously. When she returned to the kitchen, he tried to speak again.

‘Amma and Appa,’ he addressed them solemnly, ‘I need to tell you something. I met a wonderful girl at university and we want to get married, with your permission. Her name is Shiranthi Perera.’ He paused, waiting for the surname to sink in. Rajan understood immediately—he stood up and walked out, without a word. It took Nala a few more moments. She sat for a while until the tears began to fall. Nandan held her hand as she wiped her eyes with the edge of her sari.

‘Perhaps this will pass, Nandan. You’re young. Don’t rush into anything.’