Chapter 9: Night Four (Orange)
Ananya had to leave early for the studio that day. Before she left, she put an orange dupatta on my bed.
By evening, I had tried it three times. One side kept slipping. The other side was too long. I had seen Ananya wear one a thousand times. I didn’t know it was so hard.
So I took it to Mummy. She was getting the aarti plate ready.
“Mummy,” I said. “I don’t have anything orange to wear. Ananya said today’s colour is orange.” I held up the dupatta. “Should I wear this over my white kurta?” It was the first time I had asked her. Not shown her. Asked.
She looked at me. Then at the dupatta, hanging from my hand. Then at the way I had tried to put it on, one end already sliding off my shoulder.
She put down the aarti plate.
“Not like that,” she said. “Give it to me.”
She took the dupatta, folded it, put it over my left shoulder, and let both ends fall down. Then she took a small safety pin from her own dupatta and pinned it at my shoulder, so it wouldn’t slip. Her hands were quick, the way they were when she oiled my hair.
Then she stopped. As if she had just realised what she was doing.
She picked up the plate and lit the lamp without looking at me.
But she had done it. Her hands had said something before her mouth could.
I didn’t take the dupatta off until I went to bed. I kept feeling it on my shoulder, soft and light, falling exactly the way she had set it. It felt like something was covering me. Protecting me. The way her hands did.
Discussion (0)