A Time to Dance(51)

            My foolish words even interrupt my sleep,

            waking me in the early dawn.


Paati will be up soon.

            But this problem she can’t help with.

            She wasn’t allowed to think about boys or men.

            Except the one her parents arranged for her to marry.

            She couldn’t possibly understand

            how stupid and confused I feel.


I get my leg on and pace

            up and down our balcony.

            “Veda?” Ma’s potu

            is a smudged red blur on her forehead.

            She rubs a bare earlobe with her thumb.


“Ma? Why aren’t you wearing your earrings?”

            Ma looks at me with sleep-dimmed eyes.

            Dr. Murali said Jim’s project would subsidize the cost,

            not cover everything.

            I never bothered to think how much my medical bills cost

            or where the money to pay them would come from.

            “Ma? You sold your diamonds to pay

            my bills?”


“When we named you Veda,” Ma says,

            “I remembered the four holy books called the Vedas.

            I’d forgotten that dance is also called the fifth Veda.

            Until after the accident, I didn’t want to accept

            you’d chosen that fifth Veda

            over any book.

            But I should have known

            when you and I argued about dance

            and I saw your jaw set in the same stubborn line

            as mine when I argued with my parents

            for permission to marry your pa.

            My family wanted me to marry a richer man

            so I’d have the security of wealth.

            I gave up wealth so I could have this family.

            Yet I wanted you to have a well-paid career

            that would bring you the comforts I’d once had.”


Ma shakes her head at herself.

            “I imagined you’d wear my earrings

            on your wedding day.

            But that was silly.

            Even I didn’t marry wearing my ma’s jewelry.

            So, yes, I sold my earrings to pay

            our bills.”

            Ma reaches for my hand.

            Our fingers interlock.

            Between us,

            shadows shorten and lighten

            as the sun creeps higher into the sky.


“For your sake,” Ma says,

            “I’d have begged my family for money

            if I had no earrings to sell.

            Your future matters more than my pride.

            After all, you’re my most precious jewel, Veda.”