I sighed contently as I worked my fingers slowly through the thick curls, humming a melodious tune under my breath. A simple and neat braid was pretty and practical. . . the formula I was taught to live by.
Dainty. Dignified. Classic. Cultured. Simple. Sensible. And above all, silent and subdued.
My grandmother's voice rang in my ears, soft but sure, and anyone who knew her well enough would have been terrified at the menacing glint in her eye.
Do as I say and no one will suspect your past.
You are Maika Balasubramaniam, an orphan from Besant Nagar.
Your parents died in a car crash and they left you to me as a baby.
I am your only living relative.
You never knew your parents and never will.
You are a Madrasi girl and will act as such.
Our family originated in Pudukkottai District down south, and we ran a dairy farm.
You know nothing else about your lineage.
Do you understand me?
And I would always nod politely. The change was hard at first, but it became easier to bear as the years passed by.
I allowed myself a small smile at my reflection, scanning over my kurti top. Perfect. The first thing that my grandmother taught me was that I should never call her Grandmother or Grandma. I was to call her Paati or Aachi— that was what they called them here.
I paid my respects to Aachi's photo on my way out, chuckling silently as she stared emotionlessly back at me. Not a toe out of line, she seemed to say.
As usual, I picked up the envelope at the base of the frame. Before Aachi had died, she had placed it on our pooja shelf. . .
"Sometime after my passing, you will come across a rough patch in your life. By that I do not mean trouble at work or a shortage of fashionable clothing— I mean life-threatening danger. Do not look at me like that, child, I am quite serious. When that occurs, you must find your way back here and read this letter— only then will you know who you are and what you must do. However, you must not go looking for trouble and open it too early. Do you hear me? You will know when to open it, and you will not open it before then. Is that clear, child?"
And I had nodded yes.
YOU ARE READING
Shadow Rose
RandomI am the Shadow. I am the Shade. I am the gateway to the New Age. They are the Shield. They are the safes. They are the image of a masked face. Now watch as I expose their shadows for all to see. . . You now have a choice. . . to be or not to be.
