Allarmelu took out the sari that belonged to her mother, her mother’s mother and her mother before that. All she wanted now was not a long chain of dead mothers but her mother, alive. She breathed deep, hoping for a waft of her mother’s musk. But this sari did not have the fragrance of sandalwood and frankincense mixed with turmeric. Her heart skipped a beat. The sari on her lap was an imposter! 1909: Allarmelu is nine years old when her mother dies, ...
