Chapter Twenty-Seven
They carried gold vessels and lamps bright as the sun
he strode in sandalled feet and the earth trembled,
this vision I dreamed, my friend
Nacciyar Tirumoli 6:5
‘Take me to Thirumukkulam, Amma. Let’s bathe together, just you and me.’
Varaji looked at her daughter quizzically, stopping the words at the tip of her tongue, the tiresome scolds: not sleeping, not touching her breakfast, wandering about the house like a lost soul. Something had changed in the night. A cloud had lifted. Even in the light and shadows dappling the walls of their courtyard there was playfulness, as if Laksmi had sprinkled gold dust.
‘Aum Srim Hrim Maha Lakshmayai Namaha.’ The mantra still hummed inside Varaji bright as the flame she had offered last night. ‘I bow to you, great goddess.’ S
