When Tara Met Farah by Tara Pammi

Author:Tara Pammi [Pammi, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tara Pammi

Nine

Tara

This was it: the day of the battle.

I rubbed my eyes as I moved my arm holding the agarbatti in circles around Ganesha’s brass idol. My faith in him was directly proportional to how desperately out of control my own life felt at a particular moment. In this, I understood the basic concept of proportionality very well.

Facing a math test called for all-out measures. So I’d performed the trifecta of morning pooja like Ammamma used to, though hers was much more elaborate. I chanted a mantra nine times, offered Ganesha a banana and some cashew nuts and lit an incense stick. I’d already done my bargaining with him, offering to volunteer at a food shelter and donate three months of my YouTube income to a girls’ charity in India.

There was no ‘good deeds done will get you a better grade in math’ concept anywhere in all the million stories about the gazillion Gods we had but I figured it wouldn’t hurt my chances. Those were things I’d been meaning to do anyway. That we had to do whatever we could for people less privileged than us was a lesson Amma and Dad had taught me with their actions since forever.

Ammamma used to say that Ganesha couldn't grant miracles if you didn't put yourself in the path of the miracle by a combination of hard work and by sticking to your chosen path. I moved over to the pic I had of her on the mantel and moved the agarbatti in circles around her photo too.

Hadn’t she always said even God didn’t care about those who ignored their ancestors? This was something I’d always been onboard for. If there was any luck or magic or goodwill she could throw my way, I knew Ammamma would.

Also this time, I could proudly proclaim that I’d stuck to my path and for the first time in my life, I’d gone to Ganesha having prepped my ass off. It was getting more and more vague about why I’d decided passing this blasted course equaled my self-worth, but now was not the time to ponder that.

That little seed of doubt was Farah’s fault. “Why do you so desperately want to pass this mathematics course, graduate high school and follow everyone else? You clearly have your own path, Star Bells.”

“I’d be the only person in my entire family – on both sides, who failed high school,” I’d added, outraged by her question.

But her straightforward question niggled at me and I was afraid of what I’d discover if I kept digging. Farah had a way of saying things that made me swallow that first impulse and think. Like chewed-out gum stuck to school desks. But now was not the time to ponder if I should be sitting this test at all. One whiff of that kind of self-doubt and my rascal brain could very much decide it didn’t need this and shut it all down.

I gave one last glance at Farah’s closed bedroom wistfully. She’d been gone even though I’d woken pretty early and knocked at eight.

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