The Thread Read Free Page A

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    “And then, lal , just as Durga was ready to lie down and die, the Goddess Kali sprang forth from her. Kali was clad in a tiger’s skin, and her four glorious arms waved above her head. With her skull-topped staff held high, she opened her mouth and roared. The string of skulls around her neck clattered and bounced on her breasts, and her red eyes blazed.
    “The battlefield was still dark with the demon’s countless images. Durga’s son was still gone. But she knew now she would not die, for Kali has endless divine energy. She snatched up first one demon and then the next, and she thrust them one after another into her mouth. Their bodies hung between her long, sharp teeth, and her lips dripped with their blood.
    “But she was not appeased. Lost in rage, she grew wilder and wilder, her feet stamping the earth until the world itself began to sway and tremble. Her husband, Lord Shiva, took her by the arms and asked her to stop before she destroyed the world—but she was too consumed with grief and anger to hear him. She was blind and deaf to everything but the demon that had stolen her son from her. Her energy had no limit because it came from the One God—but the demon’s images were endless too. And so Kali fought on for all eternity.”
    Nani fell silent. Finally, Kirin turned his head and looked up at her. “Is that the end of the story, Nani?”
    She sighed. “No. There is more to the story. Lord Shiva will lay himself down beneath her feet, and then she will come to herself rather than hurt him. But my daughter has not yet lived that part. She is caught there on the battlefield.”
    Kirin imagined his mother with demons hanging from her teeth. And there you have it, folks. Apparently, the Mum-and-Poppy Show won’t ever be canceled. It will be playing for all eternity. “It’s not a very comforting story, Nani.”
    His grandmother looked down at him and smiled. “But God is there in it.”
    Kirin made a face. “Where, Nani? With Mum chewing on demons forever? What kind of life is that? And where’s Poppy in the story? Is he Lord Shiva? Does he have to lie down and let Mum stomp on him?” And would that even stop Mum? Maybe she’d just keep on stomping until Lord Shiva was a bloody pulp . . .
    His grandmother leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Lord Shiva takes many forms, lal . I have hope.”
    Kirin looked up at her little wrinkled face hanging above him. “Mum keeps Kali’s picture by her bed, right next to Amir’s.”
    Nani nodded. “I think sometimes that your mother sees only her baby and Kali, no one else. Not you, not your father, not me. Kali is her mother now, more than I am.” Nani walked her fingers up Kirin’s chin and nose, then did a little finger dance on his forehead. “But I have hope,” she repeated.
    “Hope?” He shook his head, dislodging her tickling fingers. After a moment, he added, “I think I’d rather be a Catholic than a Hindu, Nani. If I had to choose.”
    “And why is that, lal ?”
    He thought about his friend Anthony’s house, with its images of Mary hung everywhere, a calm, sweet-faced woman dressed in blue. “Because their goddess seems so much . . . calmer. She just sits around smiling and glowing. None of this stamping around with skulls. No blood dripping off her teeth.” He turned his head against his grandmother and said into her soft belly, “Mothers should be like Mary, Nani. Not like Kali.”
    “Mary too sorrows for a lost child,” Nani said softly. “But she is the mother of God, not a goddess herself. She is the one who said to God, ‘Let it be as you will.’”
    Kirin lifted his head. “Poppy said tonight that Mum should submit to the will of Allah. She didn’t like it.”
    Nani smiled. “No, she wouldn’t. She wants only the God that roars and fights, the God that defends the innocent one. But death and life are braided so tight that no one can part the strands.”
    Kirin made a face and let his head drop back into