Lalita has been sleeping for a while when Smita completes her climb. She sits down in front of the temple gates, breathing hard. The holy space is enclosed by high walls. A gigantic white tower, in the Dravidian style, rises up into the sky. Smita has never seen anything like it. Tirumala is a world all of its own, more densely populated than a city. In accordance with tradition, no alcohol, meat or cigarettes are sold here. Admission to the temple complex is by ticket – the cheapest is twelve rupees, an elderly pilgrim tells Smita. A crowd of people press forward to the ticket booths, at which a face appears from time to time. Smita understands now that the arduous climb was just a taster of what lies ahead. They will have to wait for hours before they can hope to enter the sanctuary.

It is late, night is falling. Smita needs to rest. She must sleep a little, at least try. A man approaches through the crowd of flower and souvenir sellers around the temple gates. He has seen her looking lost and utterly exhausted. There are free dormitories for the pilgrims, he tells her. He can show her the way. He peers into her face, and his gaze lingers over Lalita. He can take them there, in exchange for one or two favours. Smita grips her daughter’s hand and pulls her sharply away from the predator. And yet he had such a kind, friendly look, like an angel … She shudders at the thought of a night sleeping rough. Two females travelling alone are easy prey. They must find shelter, it is a matter of survival. A saddhu sitting at the side of the road, dressed in a yellow longhi – the Vishnuites’ colour – points out which way she should go.

The first dormitory is closed, the second is full. At the entrance to the third, an elderly woman announces that she has just one bed left. That doesn’t matter. Smita and Lalita have shared so much that they feel they are one and the same. They enter a run-down hall furnished with rows of simple beds placed one against the other. And despite the loud murmur filling the room, they sink into a deep sleep.

Sarah

Montreal, Canada

Sarah had taken to her bed and stayed there for three days.

Yesterday, she had called the doctor and asked him to sign her off work – for the first time in her career. She did not want to go back to the office. She couldn’t stand the hypocrisy, the unfair sidelining to which she had been subjected.

First came denial, then incredulity. Then anger, an uncontrolled rage that possessed her utterly. And after the rage, defeat, like a vast, immeasurable expanse of desert offering no escape.