In your kitchen, Ambika Aunty came up to me. “Can you do something for me?” she asked. Before I could respond, she said, “I need you to keep your Buaji away from your parents at the funeral.” I was shocked and enraged by the insensitivity of her request. Today, even today, when I would have to look at my brother’s costumed corpse and release him into a fire, I could not simply grieve. I
