A Lotus of Happiness in an Ocean of Tears by S. Priyadarsini

Author:S. Priyadarsini
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62652-735-5
Publisher: Two Harbors Press

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Back in Vellore, enveloped in the responsibilities of wife and mother, which seemed to come naturally to her, Rukmini was totally focused on the various decisions of her day-to-day tasks without any rancor or resentment. She was happy that instead of being alone most of the day, she would have the companionship of her little prince of a son. He seemed to grow by the day and to be in good health, albeit somewhat given to screaming fits of anger that she couldn’t quite fathom. At such times she would keep him cradled close to her body, whispering, “Why so much willfulness in someone so young—a new sprout with only three leaves, molaccha ilai?” Never had she seen so much anger in anyone, not even in those whose entire lives were bereft of comfort and happiness, let alone in a tiny new life with nary a worry or want. But feeling sorry at his helplessness, she would cuddle him, hoping to ease him into the arms of the goddess of sleep, Nithra Devi.

Everyone, including Uncle Ramanujam, concurred that Ram had the cheeks of his father and grandfather, with a distinctly firm chin even at such a young age. Everyone agreed that when awake he was a demanding, noisy little fellow, given to tantrums until he had his way. When he wanted to be held on the first few occasions, Ram screamed so loud, his chest puffed out and his face turning red, that Rukmini became scared that something terrible was going to happen to him.

Not wanting him to suffer, she reinforced him in his ways. Without realizing it, she was allowing him to take over her life and become the center of her universe. Her devotion was unconditional and instinctive. It was more than Sarangan had ever imagined, but he had never experienced such devotion himself. Sarangan curbed his pangs of envy for this new interloper who, he hoped, would eventually have a diminishing hold on Rukmini’s attention. He was torn between conflicting emotions, remembering his wistful longing for the unreserved love and comfort of his mother, a longing that ended only a few short years ago, when Rukmini had come into his life.

Sarangan turned out to be not only a dutiful father but an adoring one. Rukmini was keen on protecting her husband from the infant’s bouts of crying, anger, and hunger, and on protecting Ram from the evil eye. To ward off evil forces, Rukmini adorned her infant son’s forehead with a big black dot, lined his eyes with kohl, tied black cords around his nonexistent waist, and adorned his tiny baby wrists with black rubber bangles. She felt that she should have insisted that her mother teach her the incantations for his good life while ritually removing the evil eye. But against his wife’s unspoken fear of evil eyes, Sarangan proudly displayed his son to everyone.

Soon Sarangan started using his camera every weekend to take photographs of his infant son. Remembering the proscriptions against taking photos of

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