Motherland Read Online Free PDF Page B

house, a trilling like the bell on my old bicycle with the pink banana seat.
    Brindha said, “That’s Matthew saying dinner is ready. He thinks it’s the proper way because that’s what Anglos like. Amma keeps trying to get him to stop.”
    â€œI guess I’ll unpack later. Is there something for me to change into for now?”
    â€œAmma left some salwar kameezes out on her bed for you to choose from. I’ll go tell Matthew you’re coming in a couple minutes. Don’t forget to cut your nails before you come,” Brindha said as she left the room.
    Ammamma hadn’t said anything earlier, but Brindha was not going to let me get away with anything she couldn’t get away with. It was considered unattractive to have long nails on your right hand because food got under them when you were eating. Older women kept their fingernails uniformly short, without nail polish or jewelry. Girls my age often had long nails and nail polish and friendship rings and even little diamonds glued on their nails but only on their left hand, the right one was left completely plain. No one minded the lack of symmetry, but it seemed as weird to me as wearing eyeshadow on one eye and not the other. I filed and trimmed down the nails on both hands.
    I went into my aunt and uncle’s bedroom and took a couple salwar sets from the bed. Returning to Brindha’s room, I bolted shut the door and took off my clothes. My khakis were crumpled and dusty from the long car trip, and my light cotton sweater had lost its shape because I’d balled it up into a pillow on the international flight. I left everything on the floor near the door so the servants would know to take it for washing. I wouldn’t wear those clothes for the rest of the trip. Younger girls wore skirts, but everyone my age wore the pajamalike salwar kameezes every day. I had brought a few dresses and jeans from home, in case we went to a city or a hotel for a few days where I could wear American clothes, but otherwise, they stayed in the suitcase. I felt like a nun relinquishing my street clothes for a habit. Salwar kameezes were nice enough, some were colorful and pretty, but I didn’t look like myself when I looked in the mirror.
    I noticed a slight movement in the mirror and turned around. Rupa was crouched in the corner next to the bureau facing the wall. I went over to her and tapped her on the shoulder and she stood up, blushing. She had still been in the room, looking at the movie pictures when I’d come in and started undressing, and she hadn’t known what to do. She seemed afraid that I was angry, and I shook my head vigorously, to let her know 1 wasn’t. She dropped the movie pictures on the bed, and scurried out of the room.
    â€œLook, Maya, Amma even has VIP curry for you,” Brindha said as I took my chair at the dinner table.
    â€œWhat’s VIP curry?”
    Reema auntie laughed. “It’s a mutton curry. I don’t serve it all the time but it’s one of Brindha’s favorite dishes.”
    â€œAmma only serves it when Very Important guests are coming, even though I wish we could have it every day. It has mutton, and eggs, and it’s nice and spicy.”
    â€œIf you want it again before you leave next week, tell me, Brindha, and I’ll bring some good mutton from the city,” Sanjay uncle said.
    Mutton and eggs were the last things I felt like eating after traveling for three days on three flights. There was also chicken curry, and green banana curry and cabbage with grated coconut and fried okra. And tamarind chutney and lime pickle and salt mango and peppered papadum. But nothing tasted quite the way I liked it. This was because Ammamma had been out all day, so the cooking had been left to the cook. Reema auntie had guided his hand, but this was Matthew’s cooking, and therefore, Matthew’s palate. He had been liberal with the chilis, and the clarified butter and the