In that moment, Rohan understood.
Then the Ramleela began.
Nani was already shuffling toward the front row, using her walking stick to part the crowd like Moses and the Red Sea. A young volunteer saw her age and immediately dragged a rickety plastic chair to the very center.
Rohan had never heard this. “You never told me.”
Whoosh.
And then came the final arrow.
That was until his Nani (maternal grandmother) came to stay for the season.