Every morning I sit on the verandah, look over my Telugu lessons, and wait for A. to come pick me up in Ram Babu’s auto. If I get to the verandah early enough, I get to watch Sita seeing her children off to school. They look so smart in their blue uniforms, hair neatly combed and braided. Sita walks with them out through the gate. As they stride down the road she follows a few steps and looks on worriedly. She watches until they are out of sight.
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