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by Ashok Srinivasan
Jul 10, 2023
Yashoda
looked out between the louvered, wooden slats of the bathroom window of the
outhouse behind the main building. It was a wonderful, overcast afternoon in
mid-summer in Bengaluru. There was the mildest trace of apprehension in her
eyes; this worry about her mother was becoming a habit with her. No matter how
far she went or how well she hid herself, her mother had a way of finding her.
Yashoda could never manage to cut the umbilical cord that tethered her to her
mother.
She was in
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