Meera put down her pen. “So what’s the future, appa ? When I watch a film like Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam (A Midday Dream), I see a Malayali family lost in Tamil Nadu, eating appam and stew for breakfast, arguing about Jesus and Ayyappa. Is that culture or confusion?”
He took a sip of water from the brass lota .
The lights flickered back on. The television rebooted to a song from a new film—a young hero in a hoodie, rapping in a thick Kozhikode accent against a backdrop of a massive pooram festival elephant.
Suddenly, a clap of thunder shook the tharavad . The power flickered and died. In the sudden darkness, only the sound of rain pounding the tin roof filled the room.
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