- Vol. 05
- Chapter 08
I run round the house of longing, fling wide each door, yellow light from a window, slides to grey on a ceiling, till a shower-room on the landing, where I swivel the spray as I rub bhandara, the tuber’s paste, into sunshine in water.
Jejuri Temple, rises from the steam, herb and jaggery pancakes, love-tokens of turmeric root, tied round our wrists by the faithful, a sky full of gold stitches, our eyelids like a bee’s back, thick with pollen, our faces, dripping happiness.