The Vine of Desire by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni Page A

Nalini asks if you have put up the Indian calendar she gave Sudha when she left. It is important to keep track of our holy days and celebrate them, even if in a simple fashion. How else will you pass on our heritage to Dayita, and to the other little ones who, soon, I hope, will be lighting up your home? She says you must make special note of the bad-luck hours which she had the astrologer write in for each day (though I suspect you do not believe in such things).
    You will be sad to hear that Singhji, our old chauffeur, is dead. He went quietly, in his sleep. His landlord found him after a day and called us. We looked around in his rented room to see if we could find any information about a family to contact, but there was nothing. So we conducted the funeral last week ourselves. May the Goddess be with him. He served us loyally all his life, even after we could no longer pay him, and he was very fond of our Dayita.
    Will you be coming to visit us soon? It is such a long time since I saw you. Our prayers are with all of you. Every month we have a puja done in Kalighat for our Prem, so that his spirit will be at peace.
    Your mother

    Dear Mother, Pishi, and Aunt Nalini ,
    We are all well and happy here. Dayita is a real joy and amuses us for hours. She crawls everywhere and is even trying to stand up. I think she’s going to get teeth soon. Her jaws are all bumpy and she chews everything she can get her hands on. It’s worse than having a puppy! Sudha is a better cook than ever—I must have put on ten pounds since she got to America, just eating her fish curries. Sunil is doing very well at work and thinks he might be up for a promotion. But with so much work pressure, it is doubtful that we can visit you soon. I find my classes challenging but like them very much. It is lovely to get all your news. Don’t worry about us—as I said, we are fine. Sudha and I thank you for your blessings, Sunil sends his greetings, and Dayita gives you many wet, drooly kisses.
    Anju
    Calcutta
    April 1994
    Dear chiranjibi Sunil ,
    My son, I have heard nothing from you in months now, ever since Anju’s unfortunate miscarriage, which as I wrote made me very sad indeed. But such is God’s way. Please do write so that I know through your own words that you are well, though from your mother-in-law Gouri I get some news of you. That is how I know that your sister-in-law Sudha and her poor daughter are now with you. I am proud of your kindness in giving them a home. You have acted honorably in this. They have no man to look after them apart from you, after all.
    We are well here, though your father is suffering from high blood pressure. He will not go to the doctor, however, and shouts at me if I suggest it. I do not like to complain, but since his retirement he has become more irritable and also excitable. Even reading the newspaper, about a riot somewhere, or a murder, or even something like a minister caught evading taxes, which you know happens all the time, he will shout and curse. I am having trouble holding on to any servants because he yells so many insults at them, I am sure knowing him you can imagine the words, and these days with so many factory jobs around, who except a wife will put up with such behavior? Even Nitin, our old kitchen boy, left last month, and now I am having to wash all the pots myself.
    Last week your father fell down while climbing the stairs and frightened me almost to death. I asked if I could call you and he shouted at me again. His face turned red and I was afraid he would harm himself, so I dropped the matter. Do you think you could pay us a visit? Perhaps he will listen if you talk to him in person. I know you had that unfortunate fight before you left, but it has been many years, and though he is too old and stubborn to contact you, I think in his heart he regrets the quarrel. I am hoping, from your side, you have forgiven him, as a dutiful son should.
    One more thing I must request—please do not send us