A Time to Dance(68)

            Forced to agree with Ma, Pa says yes.

            I thank him.

            And fling my arms around Ma.





TOAD

in a

LOTUS LAKE





In the over-cooled air of Radhika’s parents’ mansion,

            after my hot, dusty bus ride,

            I shiver.

            My loose kurti shirt and long salwar trousers

            look frumpy

            compared to the tight tops and short skirts

            every other girl seems to be wearing.

            And I feel flat-footed as they tower over me

            in high heels that clip-clop across the marble floor.

            I want to run out the carved front door

            at which I left my slippers the way I would

            at any normal Indian home,

            instead of keeping them on like the others have

            as though we’re in some hotel.


My naked toes curl and dig into my foot.

            I feel uglier and more out of place

            than a warty toad stuck in a lake full of lotuses.





DIFFERENT DANCES





“Veda! I was waiting for you.”

            Govinda offers me the warmth of his hand and I take it.

            He leads me up a sweep of stairs

            into a sun-soaked hall where music’s playing

            and all the furniture’s pushed against walls.

            Radhika spots me and gives me a hug.

            “Thanks so much for coming.”

            She looks lovely

            in a curve-hugging dress and high-heeled sandals,

            her dimpled cheeks accented with rouge.

            Even her toes look perfect—

            painted with a soft pink nail polish.


“Dance?” Govinda asks me.

            “Don’t know how,” I say.

            Radhika giggles. “You

            don’t know how

            to dance?”

            “Not to this music, I don’t.”

            “Good thing your teacher is here.” Radhika gives me

            a playful shove. “Lesson time, Veda.”


Govinda pulls me to the middle of the room.

            “Put your arms on my shoulders.

            Now move. With me.”

            I sense where he wants me to go

            through the tensing and easing of his muscles.

            It feels like learning a new language.


I remember daydreaming of dancing this way with Jim.

            My stomach clenches with guilt.

            But only for a moment.

            Jim feels long ago and far away.

            I feel the way I did when my cracked ribs finally healed:

            delighted to discover there’s no longer any pain in my chest.

            “Something wrong?” Govinda says. “Did I step on your foot?”