meeting people who were bad
for us, who ruined weekends...
Anyway. I'm sick now. Other people are, thankfully, on the mend. I suppose it's a good thing we already had such a great time, because this part sucks.
Yesterday, before visiting the temple, I stopped at a street stall to get some flower garlands for an offering. They're made as always with fresh flowers and held together with knotted banana fiber. When I asked how much it cost (the unit of measurement is the span of the flower-seller's forearm), she held up four fingers: I thought it was four rupees, but she meant forty. Everything is the same except for prices. We had a good laugh together.
Pic: Pushpa (her name translates as "flower") selling flower garlands by the temple. Photo with permission. (Bangalore)
You won't find Nu in this picture because it's late and they'd had their fill of social interaction.
And you won't find At in this picture because their fever had spiked and they're in bed after we went to the hospital earlier in the evening for a consult, tests, and antivirals. (There's a chance it could be dengue, although we haven't been bitten by a single mosquito, and of course it could be Covid--either of which could complicate things by a whole lot.)
I've had some lovely conversations with my dad on this trip thanks to his amazing new hearing aid. This morning he was telling me about a sib who died in infancy and their family dog who died from grief soon after (that's the family story, anyway), and I started to cry about Scout. My dad was upset about making me cry, but actually, it was such a relief to be able to do any of this--talk to my dad, talk about Scout, hear a story I've heard 10,000 times before, etc.
Pic: Part of my loud and lovely family. The sheet of paper in VM's hand is a blueprint for the big family reunion being planned for next year. (Bangalore)
I am so sad the last words she may have heard as she died were "Fuckin' Bitch." I wonder how many women have heard those very ...