“What fun to be sitting here like this! And wearing these clothes,” thought Purnima to herself. “What would they think in Ponchanontola? And her employer? She would have a fit!” She remembered the day she had gone to work in a long skirt and a pretty top. “You’ve come to clean my house. Not to a party,” her employer had sneered. “Don’t pretend to be who you aren’t.” Deepa, the girl who lived next door, had helped Purnima open a bank account. “Make sure you save some money every month,” Deepa had advised her. “Don’t tell your family how much you earn.” Deepa went to college and unlike most other young women in their locality didn’t think of sex, marriage and movies all the time. She wanted to have a good job and be free. Actually, Purnima often didn’t understand what Deepa talked about but she was impressed all the same. Deepa was quite a bit younger than Purnima but knew so much more. Purnima had saved a thousand rupees a month for the last three years in a recurring deposit account an...
From the time she was a child, Shalini had loved the ritual of making jasmine garlands. The flower seller would come and measure out the jasmine buds and then in the evening, her mother and aunt would settle down to make the garlands. 3 long ones for the gods’ pictures, and 4 smaller ones – for the two of them, Shalini and her sister. How swiftly their fingers would move to wind the string around the flower buds. They would have bloomed by the next morning and the whole house would be fragrant with the almost intoxicating smell of jasmine. Her mother would plait her daughters’ hair, then raise one thick strand and insert the garland through the gap. Most days, she would make two plaits for Shalini, and the garland would be strung from one plait to the other. Shalini preferred the days when her mother ran out of time and just made one plait, because then one end of the garland would flap around her shoulder, and she could smell it if she just turned her head a bit. After she got ma...
Window seat, on the right side, front row – this was Urmila’s favourite seat on the plane. Once she settled down, and fastened her seat belt, her book came out promptly. She ensured that she wouldn’t have to look up till they landed. Her husband, Vikram, who uncomplainingly sat in the middle seat, would handle all interaction with the cabin crew, refusing any service for her. Thankfully, the toilets were in the rear of the plane, so she didn’t have to see any of the other passengers. Once all the passengers had walked past Row 1, she could finally move the scarf off her head and let it fall around her shoulders. Even though her scarf was a beautifully spun cotton one, and was colour-coordinated with her shirt, it was still uncomfortable to have it over her head all the time. While her eyes were on the book on her lap, her thoughts were far away. It had been over 6 months since she had last visited her parents. This was the longest she had not been home, but...
Comments
Post a Comment