Part 30 (1/2)

But not warm enough to thaw the sea of unshed tears frozen inside me.

SWOLLEN.

After Pa leaves with Paati's body for the cremation ground, others leave but Chandra stays.

She helps me and Ma clean the house.

Ma is afraid I'll slip and hurt myself but I mop the floor of what is now just-my-bedroom.

Crawling on hands and knees I dip a sponge in soapy water, scrub the tiles, wring it dry.

Chandra's cheeks glisten.

Wet as the mopped floor.

I'm a soaked sponge.

Swollen with tears.

A TIME.

to

DANCE.

I mail Govinda and akka a note to say I won't be at our dance school until Paati's twelve-day mourning period has ended.

A condolence card arrives signed by akka, Radhika, and Govinda.

Govinda alone also sends a letter.

Dear Veda, The verse below is from the Bible, not a Hindu text, but it helped me when my favorite aunt died.

To every thing there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under Heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to reap;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance . . .

Whenever you feel it's time to dance again, I'll be here, waiting.

Love, Govinda.

I sleep with Govinda's letter under my pillow.

HOLDING ON.

For twelve days, priests light a ceremonial fire in the center of our hall.

For twelve days, priests guide Pa as he performs Paati's final rites.