A Time to Dance(19)

            “On a trip to see the desert in Rajasthan, in the north,

            with an ex-girlfriend.”

            I’m glad to hear

            the girlfriend is past tense.

            He continues,

            “Fell out of love with her

            but stayed in love with this country.”

            I wonder how many girlfriends he’s had.

            Don’t ask.

            “Beautiful place, Rajasthan,” he says.

            “Pink palaces, hundreds of years old,

            women wearing skirts with bits of mirrors sewn on,

            camels burping in the middle of city traffic.”

            He wrinkles his nose up as though he can smell them.

            I smile.

            He says he went to an Indian hospital

            where they gave amputees free prostheses,

            and that got him interested in making artificial limbs.

            This project was a way for him

            to travel to India again and use his expertise to help people.

            He tells me he loves travel, loves new challenges,

            loves people.

            I’ve never met another older person

            as friendly, as open, as carefree.


I refuse to rest until he forces me to turn back, saying,

            “Let’s not overdo it, kiddo.”

            “I’m not a kid,” I rasp.

            “Aye, aye, ma’am.” Jim salutes with one hand in his pocket.

            I start to laugh

            but my ribs remind me I still have healing to do.

            Grinning despite my pain, I say, “That’s better.”


After that, Jim mostly calls me ma’am.

            And even when he says kiddo, I stop minding.

            Because whether he says kiddo or ma’am in his teasing tone,

            the corners of his eyes crinkle,

            and I feel singled out and special.





FAMILY DISTANCES





Two of Pa’s cousins

            whom we rarely see

            come all the way from Bangalore city, a half-day train ride away.

            They say they’re sorry about my accident,

            then talk politely with Pa and Paati about other relatives.


Ma’s family probably doesn’t even know I’m hurt.

            Paati told me they disowned Ma when she married Pa,

            even though he was Brahmin

            and they were a lower caste,

            because he was a poor librarian

            with no prospects of getting rich,

            and they were wealthy.

            Ma never

            speaks about them.

            Her diamond earrings are all we have to remind us

            of them