the heavy teakwood doors burst open. binota and gopaler ma looked up startled, a few bodis fell off the muslin cloth onto the mosaic floor and broke and scattered. she came running out, her pale pink jamdani saree billowing, the pallu flying behind her. she held the fine gauzy gold tinted cotton bunched up in her fists on either side, lifting her saree at least half a foot off the ground, her ankles clearly visible, almost her shin, as she…
