It was raining cats and dogs outside with occasional thunder strikes. The mango tree near my room’s window swayed violently to the wind, hitting the window pane several times to the point that I was worried it would shatter the glass.

My grandmother sat in the dusty courtyard with bare feet, her thighs against her calves.

I was very lonely, deeply wounded and exhausted and so I wanted a moment of silence. But still, I couldn’t completely figure out whether I wanted to hear him or shut him down, because ...