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January 2014, vol 9, no 4

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Kala Ramesh

All that’s Left


The cow dung paste caressingly patted in her hands and slapped across the outside walls to dry in the scorching Chennai heat, this mother to seven children then moves on to other chores until the day comes to an end, her tiny corner kept ready for the family's early morning bowl of thin ragi porridge. She rests her tired feet on a stiff cotton pillow, as her body yields to the soft korai grass mat spread on the mud floor.

the desert . . . 

and all that's left, the sky

with all her stars




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