Malappuram — Aunty Sex

“See, Ammu?” Vasanthi said. “She learns.”

Ananya smiled. Her mother had flown in from Trichy two weeks ago, armed with jars of pickle, a lifetime of unsolicited advice, and an unshakable belief that a proper kolam (rangoli) was the difference between chaos and civilization.

Later, as she applied night cream (a vitamin C serum from a Korean brand, followed by a dab of Vicco Turmeric —because her grandmother was right about one thing), she looked at her reflection.