need you for support.”
I sat up and blew out some air. “If they find out . . .”
“You are already in trouble, this won’t make things any worse for you,” she said with unfailing logic. “So will you call him?”
“Sure,” I said. “First thing tomorrow morning.”
“Good. It is a Sunday so he will be at home,” Sowmya said, smiling. “I am going to change my life, Priya. I am going to change it. I am not just going to sit down and let them do what they want. . . . I am going to decide what I want to do.”
I was amazed. This was not the Sowmya I knew. But the Sowmya I knew was seven years in the past. This Sowmya had had experiences and epiphanies I didn’t even know about. This Sowmya was a revelation.
“What happened?”
“You,” she said sincerely. “You are like me, Priya. We come from the same background, same place, but you have a different life. I want to have a different life, too. I don’t mean I want to marry an American or anything, I just want to do the things I want to do.”
“Like?”
“Work. I got a job offer to be an assistant at this doctor’s office. She is a friend of mine and she needs help. Nanna said there was no way I could do it, but now, I think I will,” she said, her face lighting up with the new life she was dreaming up. “And I want to stop wearing saris. I want to only wear salwar kameez. This sari is so uncomfortable. And I want to go to America to see your house and see that country.”
“You are very welcome to visit,” I said, enjoying this new Sowmya.
“So you will call him, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Part Five
Leftovers
Perugannam (Curd Rice)
2 cups cooked rice
1 ½–2 cups thick curd (yogurt)
½ cup milk
salt to taste
½ cup fried peanuts
1 tablespoon finely chopped coriander leaves
Ingredients for the Seasoning
1 teaspoon oil
½ teaspoon mustard seeds
½ teaspoon Bengal gram (yellow dal)
½ teaspoon split black gram (black dal)
1 dry red chile, broken into bits
1 green chile, finely chopped
1-inch piece of ginger, finely chopped
5 curry leaves
In a wok, heat oil and when the oil is very hot, add the mustard seeds. Once the mustard seeds start to crackle, add the rest of the spices and fry until they are golden brown. Be careful not to burn the spices. Add the thick curd to the wok and stir until it liquefies and mixes well with the spices. Put all the rice inside as well and mix thoroughly so that it is completely coated with the yogurt and spice mixture. Garnish with peanuts and coriander. Serve warm or cold with lime or mango pickle.
Bridegrooms and Boyfriends
I woke up to the sound of metal crashing against cement. I sat up, zombielike, when there was another sharp crash. I looked around with blind, sleep-ridden eyes.
Who the f——?
Sowmya was still sleeping and from what I could make out from my wristwatch, which wasn’t much, considering I was still half-asleep, it was almost six in the morning.
I rose unsteadily and walked to the edge of the terrace and leaned over to investigate the noise and see if I could yell some sense into the noise-maker.
I smiled sleepily. How could I have forgotten?
Thatha was standing by the tulasi plant in his white panchi and looking like he belonged in the fifteenth century or some old-fashioned Telugu movie. His fingers were strumming the white thread that crossed his chest and hung loosely on his body, as if it were a guitar. Like every devout Brahmin, Thatha invoked the Gayatri mantram every morning to welcome the day. I watched him circle the holy tulasi plant and pour water into the cement pot with the offensive brass mug that had fallen on the cement floor and woken me up.
His deep voice boomed to me and even though I couldn’t hear the words, I could feel them, words that were forbidden to women. Sanskrit, sacred words from the Vedas, passed from generation to generation, secretly, to men, by men.
Om
Bhur bhuva swah
Tat savitur varnyam
Bhargo devasya dhimahi
Dhiyo yo nah prachodayat
Om
The words were Sanskrit, unadulterated by bad pronunciation or lack of knowledge. He knew what he was talking about, but I don’t think he really understood what the mantram stood for.
I knew; I had asked Nanna and he had explained to both Nate and me. The mantram stood for enlightenment. It was the way a Brahmin man could become a better person. It was to invoke the