Serving Crazy With Curry by Amulya Malladi Page A

from stories. All stories had morals and everything was an education. Unlike other grandmas who probably told stories about fairies and princes on white horses, G'ma told stories about tough women, wading their way through the morass of societal rules to only sometimes win.
    The all-time favorite story of Vasu's to tell when Shobha and Devi were younger was that of the
Rani
of Jhansi. Vasu probably associated herself with the Queen of Jhansi, the queen of a small province in central India.
    “Her father was a Brahmin and her mother was a beautiful, cultured woman,” she would start the story every time, referring to the
Rani's
parents.
    “What does
cultured woman
mean?” Shobha would ask before the story could move on, which was her ploy once she was a teenager to try to not let the story continue. “Is this one of those euphemisms for doormat?”
    Vasu, unlike Saroj, was not easy to bait, and despite Shobha's best efforts, the oft-told story would continue its course.
    “She married
Raja
Gangadhar Rao and became the
Rani
of Jhansi. Her given name was Mannikarnika, but after marriage she was called Lakshmi Bai.” Vasu would enjoy telling this part, twisting her tongue around the difficult Hindu names.
    “Okay, in the rest of the world women change their last names, God knows why, but here they changed the poor girl's entire name. What about her identity?” Shobha wouldn't be able to help herself from getting on the feminism soapbox.
    Devi usually listened quietly to the story without interrupting G'ma too much. That way the story ended soon and they could quickly get done with the moral of the story and the lesson of lifeG'ma was trying to impart. In trying to stop the stubborn Vasu from continuing with her story, Shobha was only making her more determined and was also extending the time it took to tell the damn story.
    “They had a child, but the boy died when he was only four months old. Stricken with grief, Gangadhar Rao adopted another child, Damodar Rao. But after Gangadhar Rao's death, the British refused to acknowledge the adopted son as legal heir and tried to annex Jhansi. They offered the
Rani
a pension and asked her to leave Jhansi. But the
Rani
refused and fought in the battlefield to save her country from the British. She started the first war of independence.” Vasu's voice would climb up with pride as she told this part. “She tied her son up on her back and went on a horse to fight the British. That is courage and love for one's country.”
    “But she died, right?” Shobha would be bored by this time.
    “Yes, but she died a warrior's death,” Vasu would say emotionally. “She was a brave woman who never gave up her integrity, no matter how bad things got. You should remember that, both of you. You should fight till the end, not give up in the middle and lose the battle.”
    “Why fight on if you're going to lose the battle anyway?” Devi wanted to know. “I'd have taken the money the British offered and taken care of my son.”
    “Yeah, and what happened to that poor kid anyway, the one she strapped on her back? Talk about improper child care, someone should've called social services,” Shobha would put in.
    “The story isn't about the boy, it is about
Rani
Lakshmi Bai and how she stood by her integrity and her …”
    By then Devi and Shobha would start demolishing the story and never concede that the
Rani
of Jhansi was a brave woman who fought a losing battle because it was a fight worth fighting.
    It wasn't like either Devi or Shobha had anything against patriotism or the Queen of Jhansi; it was part of their dealings with Vasu. She would always tell them how wonderful India, her country, was, and they would always fight back that the United States, their country, was better.
    But now as Devi walked with Vasu in the park near her parents'house, she remembered the Queen of Jhansi and wondered if she had failed after all to learn the moral ofthat story. Hadn't she given up, midway, not