I felt tears run down my cheek. She was dry, firm as bone. I wanted to hold her in my arms, but though we were side by side on the bed in our dead mother's house, I couldn't. The most I could do was put out my hand and touch her, above the elbow on a rough patch she always had, even as a child. Then gently I stroked her cheek.
Abortions are legal in India.
You can have one if you ask for it. Flora went alone, lay on the metal table covered with a gray cloth. In New York, consumed with minding my own business, I had no idea what she was going through. Deep down, I was frightened of being swallowed up by my little sister Flora. I felt so fragile, I needed to shut off my flesh, my face with a curtain, live as if I were in purdah .