Reflecting on parenthood in inhospitable climes:
Tonight Priya has a fever. It's so mild, really, not even 101 yet and she is unaware of how hot she looks, of the two, dry patches of red that have appeared on her cheeks, of the blue tinge under her eyes. Her hari krishna tuft has separated into sweaty slicks, clinging to the back of her skull.
It is just that things go south here so quickly; it is just that in the heat, far from home and late at night when my Hindi is so bad, the margin for error seems so small and our little world feels very rickety.
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