Free Motherland by Vineeta Vijayaraghavan

Mrs. Sangeetha Ayengar and her mother, mem.”
    â€œSangeetha’s here? How lovely, I didn’t know. Please tell her she has some surprise visitors then. And I think we’ll have our tea now—we’re in somewhat of a rush.”
    The servant came back with tea things, and then a woman wearing a housecoat floated into the room, hugging each of us effusively.
    â€œGod, I’m not even dressed, I was just napping, but how wonderful to see you, Reema!” Sangeetha auntie tried to smooth out the many creases in her housecoat. Her eyes were lined with thick black kajal that had gotten smudgy in sleep and, on her unusually sallow skin, gave her a haunted quality. Sangeetha auntie’s husband had worked with Sanjay uncle some years ago.
    â€œBrindha’s so grown up, I haven’t seen her in at least a year. And, Maya, do you know, I saw you last when you were such a little girl, three I think, living with your grandmother—you would hide in her sari folds when anyone new came to the house. Do you remember?”
    I shook my head and smiled. I didn’t remember her. I did remember being shy, not liking new people.
    â€œHow is Grandmother now, 1 hope she’s keeping in good health? We all adored her in our old neighborhood.”
    Reema auntie said, “She’s doing well, she had some heart trouble last summer, and high blood pressure generally, but she’s been living with us up in the mountains, and it seems to suit her.”
    â€œMy husband says that’s one of the best postings, he’s put it on his list for his next transfer. And my mother, too, is living with me, perhaps we will all be in the same place one day again.”
    Brindha made funny faces at me over the top of her teacup.
    â€œIt’s boring here, there are no kids to play with,” she whispered.
    â€œBrindha, why don’t you and Maya go get dressed in auntie’s room,” Reema auntie said. “I’ll be in in a minute.”
    Brindha changed into her uniform, blue stiff cotton, with a white shirt underneath. And black buckle mary jane shoes with white socks. Reema auntie changed from a sal-war kameez to a sari and put on lipstick and powder and lined her eyes in black. I changed to a new salwar kameez, and wore the earrings that Brindha had asked me to wear, two big sparkling silver stars.
    â€œI don’t think this looks good with Indian clothes, Brindha,” I said. I undid the clasp to remove them.
    â€œThe girls at school will think it’s cool. Trust me, Maya, okay?” Brindha said. “Don’t you want to make a good impression for my sake?”
    I thought of how I interrogated my mother on what she was going to wear before each swim meet she came to.
    â€œAnd look, Maya, I brought your scarf,—I knew you’d forget it and I want you to wear it.”
    â€œBrindha, that’s not going to look right.” It was a red silky scarf that she must have taken from my suitcase. I often twisted it through my belt loops at home and occasionally wore it over my shoulder. I gave in and let her tie it around my neck the way she wanted, Cub Scout-style.
    Sangeetha auntie had come into the bedroom too. “Reema, you almost let me forget, I was going to show you the fabulous necklace that new jeweler made for me. If you like it, ask San jay and then let me know if you want to meet him next time you come down here. I’ll just get it.”
    Sangeetha auntie brought from her closet a bright green plastic box. Inside on two pins lay a heavy gold necklace with paisley cuts.
    â€œMy mother has that same box, maybe she’s been to the same shop,” I said. I had seen green boxes like that cluttering her dresser at home.
    â€œThis box?” Sangeetha auntie held it up. “These are just cheap plastic, all the jewelry stores use them.”
    Reema auntie said, “Sangeetha, you should see the beautiful boxes Maya’s mother brings me