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  • I sit on the mattress bed in her room in Trivandrum while she eats dinner at her desk. I feel so close to her. This girl who used to cry every time we played Tag. I remember her as my younger, annoying cousin, plagued with allergies to everything from eggs to sunshine.

    "What do you do in this big city?"

    "Oh, I just go to my tutoring class (for a standardized test), and come home, and watch TV."

    "Really? In this glorious city, the capital of the state, that's all you do?"

    " tell me, what are all the things you do?"

    "Oh...I suppose not much."

    The silence reminds us of the growing distance between us; how our relationship is defined by our mothers' perceptions of the other more than our own interactions with each other.
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