The Sari Shop by Rupa Bajwa

Perfect on those long summer afternoons. 

I really enjoy fiction based in India. It is always interesting to watch an author weave a tale against the backdrop of familiar landscapes. Chaiwallas and dust, matrimony obssessed women and fans that whirr irrespective of which way you turn the regulator, summer heat and Lifebouy soap. Rupa Bajwa won the Commonwealth Writer's Prize for this one; a simple story of Ramchand the sari seller in the city of Amritsar (which like every other major city in India has the 'old' areas of narrow lanes and the newer parts with broad roads and fancy houses). The narration charts his efforts to realise a dream and step into a world far removed from his, where people speak in English and travel in air conditioned cars. However, the crushing revelations of the reality he belongs to, send him spiralling into an abyss of depression. As the story allows Ramchand to crawl back to sanity, Rupa Bajwa deftly narrates his resigned acceptance of the reality of his existence.

Here is a review with a spoiler. Ha don't you just love those?

On Forgiving

"Perhaps the first step to forgiveness is trying to put yourself in the other person's place."

The Nightmare

Reason 

lay putrefying on my pillow.  

I woke up

in a breathless hurry,

this heart weaving beats

in a crazed drunken stitch.

My eyes screamed

at replays of 

The Dream

stretched taught

against a canvas of terror.

Caught between fiction 

and fear, 

I wretchedly thirsted

for reality 

to get more real.

A binding silence

stitched my limbs to

my heavy sides

fetid fingers scratched

at my will. 

The sheets were drenched in salt,

a fever of sweat and tears.

I lifted a hand - rag puppet limp

and in a voice splintered by fear,

called out, "Name".

You walked in,

my Dandelion wish

I blew you into reality

and watched you

slowly sift through 

those threads of cacophony

cocooning me

into comfort.

Cross posted here