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The Golden Son: A Novel
The Golden Son: A Novel
The Golden Son: A Novel
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The Golden Son: A Novel

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The New York Times and #1 internationally bestselling author of Secret Daughter returns with an unforgettable story of family, responsibility, love, honor, tradition, and identity, in which two childhood friends—a young doctor and a newly married bride—must balance the expectations of their culture and their families with the desires of their own hearts.

The first of his family to go to college, Anil Patel, the golden son, carries the weight of tradition and his family’s expectations when he leaves his tiny Indian village to begin a medical residency in Dallas, Texas, at one of the busiest and most competitive hospitals in America. When his father dies, Anil becomes the de facto head of the Patel household and inherits the mantle of arbiter for all of the village’s disputes. But he is uneasy with the custom, uncertain that he has the wisdom and courage demonstrated by his father and grandfather. His doubts are compounded by the difficulties he discovers in adjusting to a new culture and a new job, challenges that will shake his confidence in himself and his abilities.

Back home in India, Anil’s closest childhood friend, Leena, struggles to adapt to her demanding new husband and relatives. Arranged by her parents, the marriage shatters Leena’s romantic hopes, and eventually forces her to make a desperate choice that will hold drastic repercussions for herself and her family. Though Anil and Leena struggle to come to terms with their identities thousands of miles apart, their lives eventually intersect once more—changing them both and the people they love forever.

Tender and bittersweet, The Golden Son illuminates the ambivalence of people caught between past and present, tradition and modernity, duty and choice; the push and pull of living in two cultures, and the painful decisions we must make to find our true selves.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateJan 26, 2016
ISBN9780062391476
Author

Shilpi Somaya Gowda

Shilpi Somaya Gowda was born and raised in Toronto, Canada. Her previous novels, Secret Daughter, The Golden Son, and The Shape of Family became international bestsellers, selling over two million copies worldwide, in over 30 languages. She holds degrees from Stanford University and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where she was a Morehead-Cain scholar. She lives in California with her husband and children.

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Rating: 4.478260869565218 out of 5 stars
4.5/5

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Gowda has a way with family drama, as evidenced by her first book, Secret Daughter. Golden Son is the story of Anil, the oldest son of a wealthy Indian landowner. Anil's father encourages his "golden" boy to pursue a medical degree including a scholarship to advanced study in the US.
    Anil finds the US less a dream than a mixture of drudgery and nightmare. Although he finds love, he also finds racism and he struggles to compete in the cut throat environment of the major research hospital.
    When Anil's father dies, he is given the added burden of taking in his father's role of local arbitrator, settling village disagreements via long distance phone. His relationships with his brothers at home is strained. His childhood friend, Leena, meanwhile struggles in a violent marriage.
    The pressures of staying connected at home and yet competing abroad threaten Anil's future and his family life.
    Well-plotted, beautifully written without being overwrought, this is a great read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Having a group of close friends who do, I'm always interested in people from India coming to and going home from the US. One of the unique parts of this expat novel is the eldest son's role, by long distance, as the judge and arbitrator for his small Gujrat village. Anil takes over this role from his late father, whose life's goal was to send Anil to medical school in the US. Anil is totally exhausted by his residency at the largest hospital in Dallas and emotionally wrenched by his dual loyalties to both countries and to his US friends and his family in India. Violent events conspire to pull him closer to and further from to both homes. Anil's difficult life as a medical student, insecure and doubtful of his own skills, is fascinating, as is the miserable marriage entered into by his childhood friend Leena at home. Everyone learns, accepts, fights, changes, and grows. Villains are vanquished in satisfying ways. This is a well constructed, thought provoking novel that should be universally enjoyed by all readers.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Although it took a while to get started, I enjoyed this story of Anil and Leena, childhood friends who were destined to follow very different paths. I particularly liked the way in which the novel juxtaposed life in a small rural Indian community with life in a large American city and explored the conflict of the immigrant experience - pulled in both directions yet never fully belonging to either. I thought that Anil and Leena were both very well-rounded characters but that the pacing of the plot was the weakest part of the novel. Some parts seemed to drag while others, particularly the ending, felt rushed and undeveloped. Despite this, however, the characters and the story lingered, long after I had finished reading.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Interesting story of the favored son of a rural Indian family who comes to the United States to live and practice medicine. The contrasts and conflicts between his American life style and Indian traditions, his growing distance from the needs and traditions of his nuclear family and the difficult decisions that confront him make for a story filled with conflict and surprises. My only complaint about this book was the resolution. The author skipped forward at the point of resolution, changed directions fairly dramatically, imported a new character and did what amounted to an afterward to tell the reader that things worked out. I felt a bit cheated.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Anil has known since he was a boy that he would be a doctor. His father had bigger plans for him than farming the fields of India, as has been his family's history for generations. Now Anil finds himself far from the only home he's ever known, serving his residency at a hospital in Texas. Rooming with two other young men from India, Anil settles into the complicated life of living as an American.Anil gets word that his father has died, and being the oldest son he is what is known as The Golden Son. He is expected to take on the role of village arbitrator now that his father is gone. This is complicated by the fact that Anil is so far from home, but he does his best to fulfill his duty.I enjoyed this story. It's a nice exploration of Indian culture, family dynamics and hospital politics. Anil and roommates Baldev and Mahesh become like brothers. They grow and mature together, navigating adulthood and dealing with the demands of their jobs and parents. After lives spent growing up somewhat sheltered, America has new dangers and temptations for each of these young men to handle.While following Anil, there is a side story going for Leena, childhood friend of Anil and his sister Piya. Leena finds herself in an arranged marriage that is less than happy, and later finds herself in a compromised position.There are a lot of very likable characters in this story. Anil is a man of great ethic and commitment. His roommates are likewise good men. His sister Piya is sweet and funny with a mind of her own. Leena is guarded, but charming and smart and dedicated.My final word: It's unfortunate that I wound up battling the flu while reading and reviewing this book. I'm suffering from brain fog, and feel that I just can't do this book justice. It's a light and easy read, full of likable characters, with enough conflict to hold your interest. It's a great introduction to India and Indian culture (although it seems that not everything portrayed in the book as part of common Indian culture may really be that, as the author did use some creative license). I found myself especially fond of Anil and Leena. I would not hesitate to recommend this book. I only wish I hadn't been too sick to really relax and enjoy this story fully.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I was delighted to have the opportunity to read an advance copy of The Golden Son as I had read and enjoyed the author's previous book, The Secret Daughter. I liked her new book even more. The book covered many topics from an Indian doctor's immigrant experience in the U.S. to various aspects of life in rural India. There was the experience of a romantic relationship between the doctor and a white woman and its terrible consequences, as well as his professional ordeals such as making fatal mistakes and competition with other doctors. He had to deal with his father's death and was expected to assume some of his father's responsibilities back in India while still in the U.S. In the meantime, we learned about the rest of his family and friends and their experiences back in India. His childhood friend is married off into an abusive family, and we see the repercussions to her, her family and the community. One could see how difficult it would be to know which world one belongs in under these circumstances. There were many ethical issues which would make for great book discussion topics. I would highly recommend this book.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I was provided with a free advance e-reader copy by HarperCollinsPublishers in exchange for an honest review.

    Jayant Patel, the current patriarch of Panchanagar's most respected family, lives with his large extended family in the Big House. Following centuries of tradition, Jayant proudly begins to train his eldest and most favored son to replace him. A patriarch is responsible for the family's farm operations, financial support, and perhaps most importantly arbitrator of disputes and dispenser of advice and wisdom. To have a son is golden.

    Beginning at a very young age, Anil follows his father through his daily routines. The two go out into the fields to hands-on learn to cultivate and harvest the crops. When he is old enough, Anil enters the local public school and quickly becomes the first in his class to read and learn his math tables. As he shows more and more prowess at education, the fewer farm duties he is expected to perform; his share of farm work shifted to his younger siblings.

    As oldest son, Anil had more privilege and free time as a young child and was permitted to develop a friendship with a tenant farmer's young daughter named Leena. The two children spent carefree hours enjoying the freedom of youth; not yet encumbered with time honored gender roles.

    When Anil was 10, Jayant witnessed the successful cleft palate repair of a local child. He was so awed by the child's transformation, he decided that his intelligent Anil should become a doctor and live a life beyond the village. Anil was encouraged in his studies to prepare himself for acceptance into medical college.

    Over time Anil and Leena drifted apart as they were unable to spend time together in play. Leena remained at home learning women's duties, preparing herself for an arranged marriage and family. Their friendship faded behind the curtain of cultural expectations.

    Anil's life looks to be full of hope and promise. Married life for Leena was loveless, harsh and cruel. The "good family" selected for Leena had a false front and she suffered terribly. In time Leena chose to face social disgrace and returned to live with her parents.

    Anil efforts were rewarded and he was accepted to medical college in Ahmadabad. It didn't take him

    long to comprehend how disadvantaged his previous education opportunities were compared to the other medical students. Socially isolated, the six years in Ahmadabad were spent studying to prove his competence and eligibility in this world outside the village.

    Emboldened by his personal educational success in India, Anil dreamed big. He applied for an internship in the United States and is granted a medical residency at a large metropolitan hospital in Dallas, Texas.

    Arriving in America confident yet apprehensive, Anil experiences culture shock and is quickly overwhelmed. Book smart but experience short, Anil makes a medical mistake that costs a patient his life. While struggling to learn his way in a modern fast paced setting, his father suddenly dies back in India leaving Anil stranded between two worlds.

    Returning to India without permission from the hospital, Anil has to confront the changes to his life back home. Spoiled as a child, he's not prepared to become patriarch. Having not completed his medical residency, he's not prepared as a doctor. The sudden death of his father has left the family in a precarious financial position and as the new family leader floundering around in the dark to find answers. He questions where he belongs.

    The reader is charmed by the love and strength of the Patel clan in Panchanagar and the support he receives in the Dallas hospital as Anil finds his way in diametrically opposite worlds.

    The ending isn't quite the cookie cutter finish you might predict but nonetheless very well crafted and satisfying.

    Recommended.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I received an advance readers copy fro Library Thing and Harper Collins publisher in return for an honest review. The Golden Son is about tradition, culture,coming of age responsibility and perseverance. We meet Anil when he is at the sitting at the feet of his father who is the arbitrator of their village. Anil becomes a medical student in his country and wants to come to America to do his residency.Fast forward to Anal arriving Texas met at the airport by his new Indian roommate who will try to help him assimilate to to America but all the while never forgetting his Indian roots. Even in American Anil finds he is different and is judged on the color of his skin just like in India you are judge but your religion and caste. In the novel Anil will struggle to find out what it means to be the Golden son.The Golden Son is an excellent read! Shilpi Somya Gowda has done it again.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I thoroughly enjoyed Gowda's previous book, The Secret Daughter, and was pleased to get a copy of her new book as an early reviewer. This book, like the previous one, tells the story of someone born in India who emigrates to North America and has to deal with all the cultural differences between their new and old lives. While I enjoyed reading the book, I felt that it was very predictable. So I was particularly pleased that the ending was so much different than I had anticipated. I thought the book was greatly enhanced by this.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    The Golden Son did not grab me...I found the writing somewhat pedestrian. It has received excellent reviews as has Gowda's other book. Disappointed, and haven't written it off completely.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Thank you to LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program for this book. I read the author's previous novel, Secret Daughter, which I loved and has stuck in my mind, so I was very pleased to receive this one. This story about Anil, the oldest son of a traditional Indian family who goes to America to study medicine. His character is developed beautifully from the beginning so that as the reader, I really felt his struggle between following his own competitive spirit and following family tradition. I loved him from the very first chapters with his father. The other main character, Leena, is equally complex. Her struggles broke my heart. I don't want to give away details, but I believe that anyone who enjoys fiction based on other cultures and traditions will enjoy this story immensely.I look forward to whatever this author does next.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    "The Golden Son," by Shilpi Somaya Gowda deals with the issue of how much one owes his/her family and culture and how much one owes himself/herself. Anil leaves India to go to America to finish his training to become a doctor in th USA. But he is pulled back and forth between his new life in the USA and his old life and family in India. Leena is a woman who Anil has known since childhood. She has no desire to live anywhere but India. Her life becomes unbearable when she is trapped in a bad, arranged marriage. The stories of both characters are intertwined and compelling. All the characters in the novel are believable and one tends to strongly empathize with Anil and Leena. The ending is a bit unexpected, but believable. It does have a bit of a hurried feel to it, much like an epilogue rather than a complete finish. The story could continue for another 50 pages or more and be more satisfying. Still, this is a fine novel, well worth reading and would make a fine t.v. mini-series.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Anil Patel is the beloved eldest son in a family of five, living in a small rural village in India. As he matures, his father expects him to become a medical doctor and the leader and arbiter of disputes in the small village . Anil's father has been a leader in the community, though not a doctor. Anil gladly goes to college and chooses to finish his studying and training in a large hospital in Dallas, Texas. . Anil enjoys the freedom and opportunities of Texas, but also encounters cultural and racial challenges. He hopes to make a life in America, but when an error results in the death of a patient and racial issues destroy his relationship with his American girlfriend, Anil begins to question his choices.The other main protagonist, Leena, remains in the same small village that Anil left. Leena dreams of a happy marriage similar to what her parents enjoy. In time a marriage is arranged for Leena, and she leaves to live in a distant village with her new husband. The marriage is not at all what Leena had hoped for.Shilpi Somaya Gowda weaves two story arcs seamlessly. The reader is transported back from India to America many times. I found the story to be a page -turner, such was the suspense at times . At times the story is very disturbing , at other times somewhat humourous. The ending is quite unexpected. In summary, a most enjoyable read and well worth the time. Shilpi Somaya Gowda can tell a wonderful story, as she did in the very popular Secret Daughter. If you enjoyed Secret Daughter, you will also enjoy The Golden Son.4 stars for The Golden Son
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    ARC, This is the story of Anil and Leena, childhood friends whose lives follow very different paths. Anil emigrates from his small town in India to a residency at an inner city Dallas hospital. Although he has two Indian roommates, his job is intense, and he makes mistakes. He's also under pressure to continue in his father's footsteps, as the local mediator - over the phone and makes mistakes there too. Leena follows the typical arranged marriage path in India, but her husband is abusive and she narrowly escapes with her life. But in India, it's forbidden to leave your husband for any reason - and her village disbelieves the abuse, shunning her family and with staggering debt, her father commits suicide. Leena finally finds a way to support herself and her mother, in molding clay pots, and Anil keeps trying to reconcile his American life, with the pull of his family to return to India. The ending was a bit trite - it may have been better for the author to leave the threads dangling a bit, so the reader could imagine their own ending.I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Anil, the oldest son of a rural Indian family aspires to be a doctor. He does a medical residency in Dallas where he lives with two other Indians. We learn of the struggles of a med student and being Indian in America. We also travel with Anil back to India where he struggles with the needs of his family there after his father's death. Anil carries on the tradition of family arbiter. We also meet Anil's childhood friend Leena whose abusive marriage shows the dark side of the traditional marriage arrangement and dowery. Leena is a strong character who discovers her strength when she learns how to do pottery from clay in the fields behind her house. Her story and Anil's run into each other's beautifully through out this novel with an unexpected ending.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I quite enjoyed this book about a young Indian man pursuing a dream of becoming a doctor in America. His struggles between staying true to his family values and his desire to move forward with the times seemed very true. I loved the characters and their interactions. It was well written and I felt it could have been based on true families. A very easy and enjoyable read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Anil's story - born in India, medical school in Texas, torn between his two cultures.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Our lives are chock full of hopes and expectations. We face the expectations of our parents for us, those of our culture, and even our own expectations for ourselves. It can be hard work to live up to any or all of these sometimes contradictory expectations. Some people are crushed under the weight, some stop trying to achieve them at all, others struggle unhappily even as they reach those goals, while still others temper or alter expectations in order to create a happy and balanced life. This latter achievement can be quite difficult but it is the one that makes the most sense in the long run. In Shilpi Somaya Gowda's newest novel, The Golden Son, characters are trying very hard to stay true to what they know is expected of them, both from their family's perspectives and from a cultural perspective, but must, in the end, learn to adjust as situations and lives change.As the oldest son, Anil Patel should, by rights, inherit the family farm and his father's position as the local arbiter of disputes. But his father sees a different path for him, pushing him to attend college and become a doctor. And Anil has no trouble living up to this expectation. When he applies for a residency at a prestigious hospital in America and is offered a place, he knows that he is leaving the life of a rural farmer behind forever but he can't escape his role as heir to his father's reasoned and fair practice of arbitration. His struggles with adjusting to a very foreign life in Dallas, the pace and stress of his residency, and his own feelings of alienation from India and from America both, all combine to make for a tough adjustment for Anil. When his father dies and Anil has to take on the position of judge and jury that he feels so unsuited to perform, he stumbles under the weight of these inescapable expectations.Leena, Anil's old friend from home, the girl he grew up with and who he eventually had to give up spending time with because their friendship was considered unseemly, tries to fulfill her parents' and her culture's expectations for her. She agrees to an arranged marriage and goes into this relationship wanting very much to be a good wife, good sister-in-law, and good daughter-in-law. She does her best despite her new family's appalling treatment of her, wanting to not shame her parents or become a pariah in the community.Both Anil and Leena are shamed by their failures to live up to the standards they and outside forces have placed on them and it is only through deep soul searching, in Anil's case, and an almost tragedy in Leena's, for both of them to look at their lives and see the expectations placed on them for what they are. This is a novel of responsibility and identity. It is a tale of not belonging and of forging your own path toward happiness. It is, above all, a story of the weight of expectations and the problems that those expectations can create. Gowda writes in a simple and straightforward way even when she is presenting issues as complex as racism, spousal abuse, interracial dating, and medical mistakes. The details about Anil's residency and the fog he exists in during this time are well drawn and extensive. The brutal reality of Leena's life is hard to read but certainly an illuminating window into some Indian women's terrible existences, from which they have little to no hope of rescue. The ending is satisfying, if a bit speedy, and Gowda avoids the easy solution for her characters, choosing to stay true to their created personalities. Those who have an interest in India and the ties that continue to bind Indian immigrants to their country of origin will find this an appealing and easy read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This book is the best I have read so far, it’s just out of this world.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Five stunning, incredible stars. This book goes on my Best of All Time list, no question. These characters will stay with me for a long, long time. I don’t want to leave Anil’s world. Highly recommend this book to just about anyone. A beautiful, moving, heart-wrenching story.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Five stunning, incredible stars. This book goes on my Best of All Time list, no question. These characters will stay with me for a long, long time. I don’t want to leave Anil’s world. Highly recommend this book to just about anyone. A beautiful, moving, heart-wrenching story.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Book was interesting enough, I liked that the main characters struggled with their life choices. The end surprised me, which is always a good thing. I’m not sure why I didn’t give this 5 stars, I guess the Author was not able to create tension in the writing and that stopped it from being a page turner.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The Golden Son, Shilpi Somayo Gowda’s second novel, is an intriguing family saga that reminds the reader that families, no matter the diverse cultures in which they may be immersed, have more in common than not. All have hopes and aspirations for their children and themselves; it is the routes they take to achieve those goals that can be so very different. This is certainly the case for the Patel family of Panchanagar, India, the largest landowning family in their small village. As his father’s eldest son, Anil Patel is expected one day to assume the head-of-family role filled by his father and grandfather before him. But this is not the only reason that Anil is considered to be his family’s “golden son.” The young man is also one of the best students in his area school and he takes his academic work seriously, so seriously that his father encourages him to attend both college and medical school. But when Anil rather surprisingly wins a residency at one of the largest and most prestigious hospitals in Dallas, every member of the Patel family (his parents, his three brothers, and his sister) will feel the repercussions. Anil leaves behind everything, and everyone, familiar to him when he leaves India. He arrives in Dallas with only the clothes he can carry and arrangements to share an apartment with two fellow Indians when he gets there. And then, despite a slow start in which it is almost as difficult for him to master his new culture as it is to master his studies in the hospital program, Anil begins to thrive. He starts to shine at the hospital, he makes new friends, including his first serious girlfriend, and he begins to plan his future. But it is not going to be that simple.As the years go by, Anil realizes that he feels completely at home neither in India nor in the United States, and he wonders if he will feel that comfortable anywhere ever again. When called back to India upon the death of his father, Anil almost immediately assumes some of his father’s village responsibilities, but he doubts that he is truly capable of filling the role. But when he returns to Dallas and is forced to see himself as he believes Americans see him, he is no longer sure that he wants any part of the United States once his studies are complete. Gowda touches on issues in each country, but the most striking and revealing are those regarding the social and legal status of women in India. Women are still very much second-class citizens in India, and their lack of status costs thousands of them their lives every year at the hands of abusive husbands and vicious mothers-in-law. Gowda vividly illustrates this danger in the person of Leena, a childhood friend of Anil’s whose parents marry her into a family that is not what it appears to be. This subplot, in fact, is so intensely written and so disturbing that it at times threatens to take over the whole book.Bottom Line: The Golden Son is a hard one to put down, one of those books that can easily dominate a person’s free time until that last page is turned - and at just under 400 pages in length, it packs a surprise or two.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    “Golden Son” is Shilpi Somaya Gowda’s second novel; it follows her extremely successful 2011 debut novel, “Silent Daughter.” There are many fans eagerly awaiting its arrival; I’m confident they will be pleased. Gowda delivers a fascinating saga with realistic main characters, intelligent themes, and psychological complexity—in the end, I found this new fictional journey to be deeply affecting and emotionally satisfying. It should equal the success of her first novel in every way,“Golden Son” follows the story of two main characters as they develop and change over three decades. One is Anil, the eldest son of a prosperous rural Indian farmer; the other is Leena, the only child of a lower caste farmer from the same village. The two begin life as very close childhood friends; however, as they develop into adulthood their lives take starkly different paths. Anil becomes a medical doctor and travels to America to complete his residency in Dallas, Texas. There he must adapt to a whole new culture and learn to interact appropriately with modern American values and sexually experienced American women. Leena has a traditional marriage arranged for her by her parents. They only want the best for their daughter and are overjoyed when they find what they think is a prosperous farmer living in a village quite some distance from them. Leena’s parents are prepared to pay a substantial dowry if he agrees to marry her. They must keep the dowry a secret because the ancient tradition of a bride price has been criminalized in modern India. They borrow heavily to give their daughter a better life. Unfortunately, almost everything about the marriage is a sham. Leena ends up suffering considerable physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her husband and her new in-laws. There are so many things about her new family she does not understand. At first, she assumes that her troubles are her own fault. However, little-by-little, she pieces together the horrible history of her husband’s family before she came into their lives and why they needed to bring her into their family to resolve their problems. The two main characters come together as adults when Anil makes a few trips back to India to take care of family matters. It is during his stays in India that Anil becomes interested once again in Leena and aware that her marital situation may be abusive. Should he rescue Leena? Has he fallen in love with her? Can a culturally adapted Indian-American doctor find happiness with a traditional rural Indian wife? Will Anil’s mother be disappointed if he marries someone of whome she does not approve and someone that she didn’t pick for him? Will Anil return to India to practice medicine or continue to live in the United States? These are only some of the many questions I asked myself as I rushed to finish the novel and find out what would become of Anil and Leena. By the end of the book, I cared a great deal about both characters. I wanted the best for them. What happens is wonderful, but it is not at all what I expected. It’s one of those cases where the author takes her characters to a conclusion that most readers would never guess, but that all will be pleased with.This is a book about tradition, honor, duty, and love. It is a book about the Indian-American immigrant experience. It is a book about the changing culture of rural India. It is a book about being true to one’s values and identity. But at its heart, it is a book about the importance of family…and, indeed, what it takes to make a family in today’s complicated world. Gowda writes well-crafted, simple prose with abundant emotional depth. I rated her debut four stars, and I am doing the same to this second novel. Let me explain. My ratings for this author have been hybrids. That’s because Gowda’s books are hybrids. She writes prose that is somewhere squarely between popular fiction and literary fiction. She aspires to both. If I assessed her work only as popular fiction, then she’d get five stars; however, if I assessed her work as literary fiction, she’d get three stars. As a result, four stars seems a proper compromise. Her fans appear to want high-quality popular fiction and, with “Golden Son,” that is exactly what Gowda delivers.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Anil, the golden son, is caught between two worlds, the old customs of his family in rural India and the new of urban America. The more time he spends at his internship in a Dallas hospital, the less he feels he belongs in either of these worlds. This is a story about family and finding your place. It’s also about loss, and Anil coming to terms with the scars of his own life that can never be fixed completely - just like Leena’s clay pots.Even though the focus of Golden Son is male, the book illuminates the life of rural South Asian women, where arranged marriages, dowry payments, and so called honour killings still exist. Despite the persistence of these customs, the women in this story show strength and resilience.

Book preview

The Golden Son - Shilpi Somaya Gowda

DEDICATION

For Anand—

My best decision, then and always.

EPIGRAPH

When you counsel someone, you should appear to be reminding him of something he had forgotten, not of the light he was unable to see.

—BALTASAR GRACIÁN

CONTENTS

Dedication

Epigraph

Maya the Harelip

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

The Disputed Well

Part 2

Chapter 9

The Shared Mango Tree

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Dilip the Loyal Servant

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Part 3

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

The Unbound Marriage

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

The Suspicious Engine

Part 4

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

The Farmer’s Sons

Acknowledgments

An Excerpt from THE SHAPE OF FAMILY

Introduction

Home

1 | Karina

P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*

About the book

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About the author

Praise

Also by Shilpi Somaya Gowda

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

MAYA THE HARELIP

ANIL PATEL WAS TEN YEARS OLD THE FIRST TIME HE WITNESSED one of Papa’s arbitrations.

Children usually were not allowed at these meetings, but an exception was made for Anil since he would, one day, inherit his father’s role. As the only child present, he made himself as invisible as possible, crouching down in the corner of the gathering room. The meetings always took place here: the largest space in the largest house in this small village nestled into an expanse of farmland in western India. This room was the beating heart of the Big House, where the family ate their meals, Papa read the paper, Ma did her mending, and Anil and his siblings raced through their schoolwork before going out to play. The centerpiece of the gathering room was an immense wooden table—its top four fingers thick, its carved legs so wide a grown man’s hands could not reach all the way around—a piece of furniture so substantial it took four men to lift it, though it hadn’t been moved more than a meter in generations.

On this day, Papa sat at the head of the magnificent table, with Anil’s aunt and uncle on either side. Relatives, friends, and neighbors stood a respectful distance away. The room was filled with people, but the subject of the day’s arbitration, Anil’s cousin Maya, was not among them. Maya had been born a harelip to Papa’s sister, and her husband believed this to be a curse of the family into which he’d married. That Anil’s uncle had agreed to come here, to hand his family dispute over to the arbiter of his wife’s clan rather than his own, was significant but not surprising. Papa had a reputation for fairness and wisdom that extended well beyond their land.

Anil’s uncle argued he should be released from his marriage, to be free to seek another wife, one who could give him normal, healthy children. Maya’s deformity, he said, was proof his wife’s womb was tainted, and that she would bear him nothing but more bad fortune and unmarriageable girls who would remain a burden. Papa’s sister sat nearby, weeping into the end of her sari.

Papa’s face remained impassive as he listened. He then consulted the astrologer for whom he had sent, asking him to read Maya’s birth charts. The astrologer found nothing untoward: Maya was born under a good star, no eclipses had occurred during the pregnancy. Finally, Papa turned to his younger sister. Did she love Maya? he asked. Was she dedicated to her husband? Would she give whatever was needed for their health and happiness? To all of these questions, she nodded yes, still weeping. Her husband stared down at the table for so long that Anil worried he might notice the initials he and his brothers had recently carved into its edge.

This is a very difficult matter, Papa began after everyone else had spoken. Obviously, no one would wish for what has happened to Maya. But as you’ve heard from the astrologer, the problem did not come from the pregnancy or the birth. In this case, we can no more lay the blame for Maya’s condition with her mother than with her father.

There was a gasp from the crowd. Anil held the last breath he’d drawn. Even at the age of ten, he understood the danger of threatening another man’s pride. Yelling matches had erupted among his relatives over far less. Every pair of eyes in the room turned to Anil’s uncle, who looked shocked by the suggestion he could be at fault for Maya’s affliction. A deep crease appeared between his eyebrows.

So then, Papa continued, we must turn to the child. What do we know about Maya?

Anil was momentarily lost. What was there to know about an infant, one who wasn’t even present? Looking around the room, he could see that the others were confused as well.

Maya, Papa repeated. "Her name means illusion. What is an illusion? Something that tricks our eyes? Something that is not as it appears? Bhai, he turned to his brother-in-law, reaching out a hand to his forearm, you’re too smart to be tricked, aren’t you? You know your true daughter is not this harelip. You know your daughter, your true daughter, is beautiful and loyal and will bring you years of care and happiness, don’t you?"

Anil’s uncle stared at Papa for several moments. The furrow between his eyes softened, and very slowly he nodded his head. It was such a slight movement, everyone waited until he nodded again, then the crowd began to murmur agreement. Anil’s aunt stopped crying and sniffled sharply a few times. Papa smiled and sat back. "So what we must do is uncover your true daughter. It will take a strong and clever man. Are you up for the task, bhai? Yes? Very good."

Three weeks later, Anil’s father and uncle took Maya to the charity medical clinic traveling through a nearby town, where she underwent an hour-long free surgical procedure to repair her cleft lip. Nobody else was aware of such an option; Papa was one of the few people in the village who could read the newspaper from town. A few months later, Maya had healed completely from the surgery. When the bandages came off, the illusion was gone. In its place was a smile as beautiful and perfect as those with which Maya’s three younger siblings were later born. Every year thereafter on Maya’s birthday, her parents brought Papa an offering of blessed fruit and flowers.

THE NIGHT Papa returned from the clinic, after Ma and Anil’s four younger siblings had gone to sleep, Anil sat with his father in the gathering room, across the great table from one another, the chessboard between them.

I’ve never seen them like that, Anil said. His aunt and uncle had both been in tears as they left the Big House with Maya.

One corner of Papa’s mouth turned up in a weary half-smile. Your uncle is a good man at heart. He just needed some guidance to find the right path.

You helped him? It came out as a question, though Anil hadn’t intended it that way.

Papa wobbled his head and held up his thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart. It was really the doctor.

His father’s eyelids were beginning to flag, but Anil was eager to keep him talking. T-tell me about it, he stammered. Please?

Papa rolled the pawn he was considering between his fingers before setting it down on the board. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together over his belly. There was a big tent set up outside the market, right across from the coconut stand. Fifty people were lined up outside. Inside were rows and rows of cots. The doctor came over and explained what he would do to fix Maya’s lip. He showed us pictures—before and after—of other children he had treated. Papa shook his head once. Magic. A miracle, really.

He looked up at Anil, his eyes moist. You should be a doctor, he said. You will do great things.

PART I

1

ANIL COULD NOT FIND THE RIGHT WORDS, NO MATTER HOW many ways he rearranged them in his mind. Ma, please, you don’t need to do all this, he blurted, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. Not because of the look of scorn they brought, nor because it was a futile request, but because the plea made him sound like a child rather than a man of twenty-three embarking on the journey of a lifetime.

His mother glanced over to acknowledge him before she turned back to the task of directing his two younger cousins to hang marigold garlands over the double doors. Anil knew there was no way to stem the flood of activity well underway. He had awoken this morning to the aroma of a feast being prepared, had fallen asleep late last night to the sounds of the servants struggling to lash his two enormous trunks onto the roof of the Maruti.

People had begun to arrive in the late morning after the cows had been milked, the chickens fed, and the fields tended. The rhythm of every day in Panchanagar started at daybreak, but only after the early chores were completed did anything else take place. Now, without a trace of morning dew left and with the sun blazing overhead, the dusty clearing in front of the Big House was crowded with family and neighbors. They circulated into the house for hot chai and the elaborate lunch buffet, each one seeking out Anil to wish him well. Some had familiar faces; with others, Anil struggled to find a hint of recognition behind the stooped shoulders and thinning hair that had befallen them in the six years he’d been away. He had been back in the village for only a week, but already the yearning to leave had set in.

From the edge of the porch, Anil scanned the crowd and spotted his younger sister, Piya, in the clearing below, speaking to a woman with a thick waterfall of hair down her back. As Anil approached them, Piya reached out to wrap a slim arm around his waist. As I was saying, this whole celebration is bigger than my wedding will be. She smiled up at him and raised her eyebrows in mockery before turning back to her friend. Of course, yours will probably come first.

The other woman tilted her head to one side, smiling barely enough to reveal a narrow space between her two front teeth, and Anil recognized her with a jolt of surprise. Leena. He hadn’t seen her in years, and never without the two long braids she’d worn as a young girl. She was now a grown woman, her nose chiseled and cheekbones high, her eyebrows arched over warm brown eyes. He cleared his throat. It’s been a long time . . . How are you?

She’s going to leave me too, Piya said with an exaggerated sigh, to get married.

Anil smiled at Leena. Really?

Leena shrugged in response. Congratulations to you, Anil. Your parents must be very proud.

Yes, we are all very proud, big brother. Piya squeezed herself closer to him. This has been a long time in the making. Do you remember that little bird? The one in the coconut tree?

Yes! Leena said. We were racing to climb to the top.

You got there first. Anil pointed to Leena. And started throwing coconuts down at us.

"Not at you, to you. I’ve never seen such bad catchers. Terrible! You scattered like ants. Leena laughed, her fingers flying up to her lips. And that poor little bird. Oh, I felt so bad. She shook her head. Thank God you knew to bandage up its leg until it could fly again. It would have been very bad karma for me if you hadn’t saved him."

You kept that bird in your room for weeks, no? Piya said.

Anil nodded. The other children had been sad when it was time to let the bird go, but he had felt a swell of pride at seeing the small creature push off from the windowsill and fly away. Yes, I fed it by hand—mashed yogurt and rice. He smiled and shook his head once. Ma wasn’t too pleased when she found all that food I’d hidden in my room.

"Okay, all this talk is making me starving hungry. Piya linked her arm through Anil’s. Come, let’s go get some lunch."

Leena excused herself, saying she had to get home; she and Piya embraced and made plans to see each other the next day. Anil became aware that his momentary lift in mood was dissipating again as Leena walked away.

AFTER ANIL finished eating, both the modest serving he’d given himself and a larger one from his mother, Ma leaned in to clear his plate and whispered, He is awake now, you can go.

Anil stepped into the doorway of his father’s bedroom. Papa was sitting upright in bed, gazing out the window. His hair, once thick and black, was thinning to the point where his scalp was visible. The white whiskers sprinkled like flour over his face could not camouflage the sagging folds of skin.

Papa turned at the creak of the door. When he saw Anil, his eyes filled with light, rendering his face recognizable again. He cleared his throat and patted the bed. Come.

Anil sat and took Papa’s hand, casually draping his fingers across the pulse point. How do you feel, Papa? He gauged his father’s heartbeat as normal, same as the last several days.

First class. Papa’s smile widened. It’s only a pesky flu. I’ll be on my feet in a day or two. He patted Anil’s hand. But your flight will not wait.

I can change—

His father waved his hand in front of his face as if swatting away an invisible fly. Nonsense, he said. This is the proudest day of my life, son. Don’t make me wait any longer.

Anil began to speak, but his voice caught in his throat, so he simply pressed his hand on Papa’s. His father’s gift for words was not one he had inherited.

Before you go, son, please send in Chandu.

What is it, Papa? Anil’s youngest brother, Chandu, had still been a child when Anil left home, but his personality was apparent even then. He was often scolded for chatting in class, and had been sent home more than once for a schoolyard brawl. With seven years and three siblings between them, Anil felt more like an uncle to Chandu than a brother.

Papa shook his head. Lately, he’s fallen in with a bad crowd, putting wrong ideas into his head. Chandu is smart, but he’s stubborn. He wants to find his own way. He thinks there’s no room for him here. I’m trying to find him a role in the farm operations. Your brother can be successful, I’m sure of it. Anil didn’t know if this was true or if his father simply lacked the ability to be objective about his own son. He rose, leaned forward to embrace Papa, then touched his feet.

And, son, Papa said as Anil reached the door. Take care with your mother today. This is hard for her.

HAVING SAID good-bye to his father, Anil was eager to leave. He caught a glimpse of Ma, in her parrot-green and orange sari, one of the fine silk ones she saved for special occasions. She was ambling through the crowd, holding a platter of sweets. His mother moved through life as if she were never in a hurry, unconcerned about things like train schedules and appointments, a trait Anil found maddening.

Ma. He reached for her elbow. We should leave soon. It’s getting late.

She insisted on first performing a proper Ganesh puja ceremony to bless Anil on his journey. With everyone watching from the porch outside, he crossed the Big House threshold for the final time, ducking under the string of fragrant marigolds. The pandit recited prayers to remove any obstacles he might face on the road ahead, and Anil stepped barefoot between the red and white chalk patterns decorating his path across the porch and down the steps.

He watched as Ma orchestrated the distribution and loading of people into various automobiles, standing off to the side with his brothers Nikhil and Kiran. Nikhil was only two years Anil’s junior, but his spindly frame always made him seem younger. Where’s Chandu? Nikhil asked, looking around.

Papa asked him to stay behind, Anil said.

Well, he can’t foul up too much in one day, Nikhil said. When Anil had left Panchanagar, it was Nikhil who’d become Papa’s apprentice in the fields, and he was the right sort of person for the role—serious and responsible, nearly to the point of being humorless.

Papa’s wasting his time. Kiran shook his head. No use trying to straighten a crooked branch. Kiran, who’d just finished school, had never considered doing anything other than joining the family farm. He was well suited to the physical nature of field work: strong and fast, unquestionably the best cricket player of the four brothers.

Anil glanced over at him. Come on, you don’t believe that?

Kiran raised an eyebrow. He’s been cutting school to spend his days with a group of older louts, racing scooters and drinking toddy made from palm-tree sap.

It’s bad, Nikhil said. "I don’t think Papa even knows how bad. One of Chandu’s friends grows bhang on his grandfather’s land. A bit of bhang lassi on Holi is one thing, but this guy adds something to make it stronger and sells it in town to tourists as some sort of herbal path to enlightenment."

Nikhil leaned down and yanked up a prickly weed encroaching on the porch. It’s just a matter of time before one of those tourists wakes up after being robbed and sends the police after that hoodlum. Not sure if Chandu’s involved, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

God. Anil removed his specs to wipe a smudge from one of the lenses. He knew his brothers resented Chandu for his duty-shirking ways, though this sounded more serious. Even so, he knew Papa would be able to handle it.

Finally, after Ma had successfully accommodated no fewer than thirty-one people in four cars, it was time to go. Dozens more guests were staying behind, not for lack of desire but for lack of vehicle space. Most families had sent a delegate so Anil would feel the collective weight of their good wishes as he left home.

After everyone was seated and the car doors were locked, a nearly forgotten five-year-old cousin came running from among the thick brush, and chaos ensued until space was found for the child on someone’s lap. Ma closed the boot of the car, which held enough fresh-cooked food to feed the entire family three times over, then folded her ample frame with some difficulty into the backseat. Nikhil turned the key in the ignition and drove off, stirring up a cloud of dust through which the rest of the caravan would ceremoniously pass as they left the tiny village of Panchanagar and continued for two hours on unpaved roads to Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport in Ahmadabad, the largest city in the state of Gujarat, India. Anil reached for the wristwatch Papa had given him as a parting gift. Its steel band gleamed, and its silver face was punctuated with indigo numbers and fluorescent hands. There were two dials: one set to the time here in Panchanagar, the other to the time in Dallas, Texas. Over ten hours separated his past and future homes, and it would take more than a full day in the air to traverse that distance. And yet, both measures of this journey seemed inconsequential in comparison to the lifetime he’d spent preparing for it.

LONG BEFORE this day, before he was the first person to leave his village, before he was the first in his family to attend university rather than farm the rice paddies covering their land, Anil was the first son born to his parents.

Jayant and Mina Patel had four more children—Nikhil, Kiran, Piya, and Chandu. Big families were a way of life in their community. The extended clan—still known by the name of Anil’s deceased great-grandfather, Moti (big brother) Patel—owned most of the land for more than ten kilometers in all directions from the Big House. Anil was the latest in the line of eldest sons, including Papa and his grandfather before him, and as such, the expectations of him had always been clear. One day, he would inherit his father’s role as leader of the clan, responsible for farm operations, financial support, and presiding over family disputes. As a boy, Anil had followed Papa into the fields each day, learning to cultivate rice from the paddies, harvest it most efficiently, dry it in the sun, and bundle it in jute sacks to take to the market.

Anil learned quickly, as his teachers pointed out when he began attending the local school. He was the first in his class to read, the first to memorize the math tables. Every day, he left school with a stack of books tethered in twine, which he swung between his thumb and forefinger, creating a deep red indentation he took pride in inspecting after the long walk home. After working with Papa in the fields, he read his schoolbooks late into the evening, borrowing the kerosene lantern that sat on the porch outside for nighttime visits to the latrine. Once, when he forgot to replace it before going to sleep, Nikhil tumbled down the front steps and sprained his ankle, but everyone agreed later that the injury had been for a good cause when Anil took top marks in mathematics. As Anil began to excel in his studies, Papa excused him from his farm duties and, by then, his brothers were old enough to compensate for his absence.

Ever since that day Papa returned with Maya from the clinic, he and Anil shared an unspoken understanding that his path would be different. They became conspirators in building Anil into someone who could venture beyond Panchanagar and its limited offerings. Anil pored over his science books, studying the human-anatomy figures depicted in them until he could name every organ, muscle, and bone. After he outgrew the resources at school, he sent away for science magazines and ordered the Atlas of Human Anatomy from Jaypee Brothers in Delhi. Whenever Chakroo, the family dog who slept and roamed outside, returned with a dead mouse or rabbit, Anil sat on the porch and carefully cut it open with the smallest knife he could pilfer from the kitchen while the cook napped. By age twelve, he’d given up countless cricket games after school, and lazy summer days. There in the village of Panchanagar, after generations of farmers, surrounded by nothing but agricultural fields, Anil prepared to one day become a doctor.

Only after he arrived at medical college in Ahmadabad did Anil understand the significance of this feat. His fellow students, from wealthy families in the cities, had been professionally tutored for years: their schools had biology labs with dissection specimens, they had shadowed their parents’ doctor friends in the hospital. All they saw in Anil was a village boy, making him acutely aware of his lack of sophistication in everything from computers to popular music. Anil kept to himself and spent all his time studying, eager to prove himself as capable as his classmates.

Six years of medical college had taken him away from home, and not only physically; it had given him a taste of another world. The medical library was filled with entire sections dedicated to subjects that garnered a mere chapter in Anil’s rudimentary textbook. The city of Ahmadabad bustled with ten thousand times the population of his village. It was this taste of the world that lingered in Anil’s mouth like the residual flavor of sweet paan and enticed him to seek out a coveted medical residency in America. His professors cautioned him it would be nearly impossible for a foreign student to win a spot at a major urban hospital center, but Anil forged ahead with his applications. In the end, only three students in his class received residency offers outside India: two were going to England and Singapore, and Anil was accepted by Parkview Hospital in Dallas, one of the busiest hospitals in the United States.

I don’t know how you’ll manage there all alone. Ma’s words jarred Anil back to the present. "No one to cook for you, no one to take care of you. They say the food is terrible—bland and boring and so much meat. She spat out the offensive word as if it were the actual thing. You’ll be thin as a branch when you come back, and then how will we find you a good wife?"

Piya clucked her tongue. "Ma, stop nagging him to death about marriage, will you?"

Anil smiled, grateful his little sister had insisted on coming along despite her propensity to get sick on long car trips. Ma blinked a few times at Piya, as though trying to recognize her daughter. What nonsense. She shook her head. Son, I put some tulsi leaves and ground turmeric in the brown trunk. The turmeric will keep you well, if you take it every day. Cough, cold, stomach problems, headaches, joint pain—turmeric cures all of it. Why do you think I’m still free of arthritis, when my poor mother could barely use her hands?

Ma, you’re too young for arthritis, Anil said. She was eight years younger than Papa, her only sign of aging a slight graying at her temples.

Ma gazed out the window, her mind clearly on her deceased mother more than on the children beside her. After a few minutes, she turned back to Anil. And, son, please. She pressed her palms together, eyes solemn. Don’t forget your prayers every morning. God is the only one who can protect you over there.

Yes, Ma. Don’t forget to write every week—call when you can—don’t trust anybody—be careful—don’t touch meat or alcohol—and come back as soon as you can. Anil silently ran through the mantras Ma had been instilling in him for months, before remembering he would soon be far enough away to stop hearing her voice altogether.

You can do anything you want, Anil, anything, Ma had lamented when he’d announced his decision to do his residency in Dallas. You’re so smart, so talented. Any hospital in Gujarat would be happy to have you. Why must you go so far away?

Ma believed every step Anil took away from Panchanagar was temporary; she assumed a connection with home he no longer felt. But the problem with planting seeds, as the son of a farmer well knew, was that you couldn’t always be sure where or how they would grow. Sometimes they would mutate or cross-fertilize, blown by the winds from one field to the next. A year from now, after the successful completion of his internship, Anil would stay on in America to complete a two-year residency in internal medicine, during which time he would choose his specialty for further training. By then, Ma would be used to Anil’s distance and not be as distraught at the prospect of his leaving for good.

Parkview—the idyllic name conjured visions of rolling grassy hills, the state-of-the-art hospital nestled among acres of trees and flowers. There, it would not matter what Anil’s last name was, what caste he came from, that his family were farmers, or how many people he bribed. In America, he could make his own way, build his own reputation. He would no longer be known as the eldest son of Jayant and Mina, or as the village boy. His colleagues would know him only as Anil Patel, and success or failure would belong to him alone.

Now, as the family caravan rolled up to the airport, Anil pushed aside any whispers of trepidation about leaving behind everything he’d known. He wanted only to look forward: past the large ceremonial meal he would share at the airport, past the many group photographs for which he’d have to pose, past the endless night sky into which he would fly toward his new life in America.

SEVERAL HOURS later, as he sat on an airplane for the first time in his life, his homeland drifting away beneath him, Anil found his mind returning to the events of the day, to his chance encounter with Leena. She had been his constant companion in the years before his studies drove him indoors. They had hidden from each other in fields of tall sugarcane, careful not to rustle a wayward stalk and reveal themselves. Leena was brave, the only one not to leap back when they came upon a family of snakes in the bushes while pretending to search for tigers. She’d been the first to challenge Anil to climb a coconut tree, using the callused soles of her feet to scramble up the narrow trunk. The first time Anil had tried it, he’d fallen on his shoulder, making his handwriting exercises difficult for weeks afterward. It was likely a torn rotator cuff, he realized later, but he’d brushed it off at the time, embarrassed to have been shown up by a girl.

One day, when just the two of them had been playing outside, Anil pulled his hand from his pocket. Look, he said, unfurling his fingers to reveal two thin beedis in his palm. They were so crooked and dark, they could almost be mistaken for twigs, but Leena recognized them right away.

She peered closer. Where did you get them? she asked in a whisper, though they were alone outside, with no risk of being overheard. It was late afternoon, that time of day when men were wrapping up their work in the fields. The women were busy preparing the evening meal and wanted children out of the way. School was finished, and no one would be looking for them for at least another hour, when dusk set in. The illicit nature of what they were doing hung in the thick, sweet, humid air between them.

From my uncle’s house. My father sent me to deliver an envelope, but there was no one in the house. I saw the box sitting by his chair, with the lid open. There were so many, he’ll never notice. Anil had been so scared of getting caught, he’d jammed the hand-rolled cigarettes into the bottom of his pocket and not taken them out until now. All day as he sat in school he’d been simmering with anticipation for the moment he could show her. Do you . . . Have you . . . ?

No! Never. Leena pulled back. After a moment, she whispered, Have you?

Anil was surprised. Couldn’t she see right through him? No, but . . . He repeated what he’d heard from one of the boys at school. I’ve heard it can help you see figures in the clouds, and hear the flute music of Krishna.

Leena’s eyes grew wider. Slowly, her lips parted into a smile and revealed the space between her teeth. Other kids sometimes teased her for this flaw but Anil had always liked it. He knew he’d got a real smile out of her when he caught a glimpse of that space.

Anil knew what she would say even before he asked. Do you want to try it?

They sat cross-legged facing each other in the bottom of the gully that roughly marked the property line between the many hectares of Patel family land and Leena’s family’s small plot, one of several that bordered the Patels’. After Anil lit the beedis and handed one to her, Leena took a small puff and immediately began to cough. Anil did the same after taking a puff of his. They both began to laugh, as they had trouble keeping their balance while holding on to the small cigarettes.

Leena tried again, taking a second drag and blowing it out cleanly this time. There was a shine in her eyes. Anil tried again, slowing down his inhale and controlling his exhale, until he too could smoke without coughing. The glow of the red embers on the end on the beedis danced before Anil’s eyes. The images at the edge of his vision, the banana trees and waving tall grasses, blurred a little and he began to feel dizzy. Was Leena feeling the same effects? The ground was calling to him, and Anil lay down on his back. Leena lay down beside him and for several moments they watched the sky, the clouds drifting by.

My father would kill me if he found me smoking this, Leena murmured, her voice soft.

"My mother would kill me, Anil said, referring not only to the cigarette but also to Leena’s presence. It doesn’t look good, Ma had said a few weeks earlier. You’re not a little boy anymore, Anil. You can’t run around playing with girls at your age." He had recently turned fourteen. Leena was almost twelve. She had not yet developed breasts, like some of the girls at school had. Girls and boys had been separated into different classrooms a few years earlier, a practice intended to enable both groups to focus on their studies but which had the opposite effect. The boys in Anil’s class seemed to think of nothing other than girls, passing notes and explicit pictures in the classroom when the teacher’s back was turned, sharing stories outside in the schoolyard. And, as Anil’s mother never let him forget, the Patels held an important role in the community and shouldn’t be socializing with a modest family like Leena’s.

Anil’s head was buzzing, a pleasant hum that made him feel as if someone were singing softly in his ear. His beedi had burned down almost to the end. He took one last puff and mashed it into the grassy hillside with his fingers. Leena’s beedi was also gone, and she was holding her open palm up above her, tracing the outline of a cloud with her forefinger. He stole a glance at her profile, the soft curve of her nose, the sharp angle of her chin, the glint of yellow gold against her dark earlobe. She was not beautiful in a conventional way, like Bollywood stars with their rounded hips and plump lips, the kind of photos boys at school hid in their books. If pressed, Anil would not be able to explain what he found so attractive about Leena. But he loved looking at her, and when they were not together, he recreated her features in his mind, always starting with her mouth.

With the music humming in his ears and the fluffy white clouds floating overhead, Anil allowed himself to reach his hand up toward Leena’s open palm. Neither of them looked at the other as their hands touched, intertwined, and drifted back down to the ground between their bodies, Anil’s hand atop Leena’s. Anil found himself counting beats in his head, trying to control the quickening pace of his breath. He wanted desperately to lean over and kiss her. Instead he kept counting, ever conscious of the feel of her hand beneath his.

He had counted to thirty-eight when he heard the noise. At first it sounded like the rustling of stalks in the fields, but the noises grew louder and closer, and shaped themselves into human voices. Anil stopped counting. Leena’s body tensed beside him. What if it was her parents looking for her? What if it was his?

The gully was deep enough that you could only see across, not into, it when standing on either bank at a distance. One would have to walk up to the very edge to see if anyone was hiding in the basin. For this reason, it was Anil’s favorite spot in hide-and-seek, but it only worked if he stayed perfectly still in the bottom of the gully, even as voices of the children looking for him echoed through the rolling fields around him. Now, a male voice, too deep and angry to belong to either of their fathers, grew closer and more pronounced. Leena began to sit up, but Anil closed his hand tightly around hers and pulled her back down. They turned their faces to each other and kept their eyes locked as the sounds grew louder. Grunts. Panting. A weak female voice, speaking unintelligibly. The male voice, louder again. Rustling. More grunting.

When it became apparent that these people had not come to search for them and, in fact, were not aware of their presence at all, Anil nodded to Leena. Slowly,

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