Mallika: Young lady, is this young man the cause of your distress?
1979
‘I can’t believe this,’ Ma said.
‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’ Shantamama said.
At the dining table, my mothers had stopped cleaning the dhanya and methi leaves and were looking at me incredulously.
I stopped stringing the beans and stared at them in disbelief.
I had just told them that I wanted to apply for a PhD to universities in America. Of course, I could only go if I got full aid, I said, and then there was the matter of the visa – even students with full financial aid often didn’t get one. But if I did, I could come home every year, I said, bracing myself against their pain.
As I spoke, my mothers had looked startled. Then astounded. Then they looked at each other.
Oh, the money. Of course.
‘Sh
