Dev Dreams, Volume One by Ruth Madison

heads.
    They continued on to a little open
restaurant. The whole front was open air, but it, like all the
shops, had wide, steep steps that ran the length of the front.
    “You hungry?” Sumitra asked.
    Adi laughed. “Yes, but there's no way I'm
getting in there.”
    “That's okay, I'll get them to bring food
down.” She paused. “What language do you think they speak?”
    “I'm pretty sure it's Kanada.”
    “Makes sense. I wonder if they'll understand
my Hindi, I've been taking an adult learning class, but I
suck.”
    She hopped up the steps and Adi waited below
watching her. She pointed down to him and the woman behind the
table frowned. Sumitra tried hand gestures and broken Hindi. When
she came back down the steps she was carrying two large metal
plates with fresh, large crepes on them.
    “Nope, my Hindi is as unintelligible as my
English. At least 'masala dosa' is only called one thing.”
    “Nice job,” Adi said, smiling. “I don't speak
any Kanada either.”
    “Two totally useless American-born desis!”
She sat on the steps with one plate on her lap and put the other
plate on his lap.
    “Um,” he said and licked his lips nervously,
“My hands don't really do the whole Indian eating thing.”
    “Oh, right,” Sumitra said, “Sorry, I didn't
think of that. What can I do?”
    He started to look embarrassed and the easy
connection they had was fading quickly. When he didn't say
anything, but looked away, Sumitra reached onto his lap, tore a
piece of dosa and gently held it to his mouth. His eyes jumped to
hers and she looked at him with the most sultry look she could
manage, giving him a wink. She wanted to make sure he knew she
wasn't feeding him like he was a baby. He opened his mouth and she
held eye contact as she fed him a bite.
    “Pretty good, right?” she said.
    “Yeah,” he agreed.
    She asked him about his home and his life
there to get him engaged again and they spent most of the afternoon
together. As they wandered back towards the ashram grounds, Sumitra
asked, “What did your parents ask as a blessing?”
    “What do you think? For me to be healed and
get up and walk, of course. Twelve years I've been in this chair
and they're still expecting a miracle. What did yours ask for?”
    “Me to find a husband. Also a miracle.”
    “I'm surprised you have trouble, you're a
very pretty girl,” he said, looking up at her and squinting against
the setting sun as he spoke.
    “Aw, thanks, but looks aren't the trouble.
I'm not exactly docile.”
    He laughed.
    “I take it you've noticed that about me.”
    When they arrived back, both sets of parents
were frantic with worry. Adi's mother looked at Sumitra like she
could turn the girl to dust with her eyes alone. Sumitra's parents
saw Adi and looked at each other in horror. They probably thought
he was contagious, or at least that his karma could be.
    The next day Adi didn't come to darshan, but
Sumitra saw his parents there. She slipped out early and walked
back to the dorms. Everything around the building was empty and
quiet, all the people in the area were seeing the guru. There was
only one room on the ground floor and she knocked lightly on the
door.
    “Yes?”
    She pulled open the door and saw Adi in bed.
The ashram dorms came with only hard wooden frames and a small sack
of a mattress, but Adi was laying on several layers of blankets,
with more rolled up around him, holding him in the bed. He smiled
without reserve when he saw it was her.
    “Hey,” she said, “Glad to see me?”
    “Totally, I'm so bored.”
    “More masala dosa?”
    “Only if you can help me into my chair and
down the front stairs.”
    Sumitra grinned. “No problem.” She pulled his
wheelchair closer to the bed, then leaned over Adi and got her arm
around his back. He put his over her neck and she thrilled at the
feel his fingers against her back. She pulled him into the chair.
Outside the room there were five steps down to the street and Adi
instructed Sumitra how to