Chapter Fourteen
Blissful maiden, speak to us,
explain the fragrance we inhale
Tiruppavai 10
Dates and times were decipherable enough inside the glossy covers of the temple’s festival booklet, but everything else was in Tamil. Kartika might volunteer some information if we happened to meet, but then again, she might not. The hours of each day melded one into the other until they didn’t matter—as long as I woke in time for the morning’s Tiruppavai chanting around the temple, and I always did because a little bird kol-kolled outside my window at the exact same time in the hour before first light. I had read about a bird who fed on moonbeams and wondered, are you the one?
For three weeks, I had fumbled from one place to another, to the celebrations and rituals particular to each of Marga
