This was Neelamma’s time.
But Neelamma knew a secret.
The tourists fled as the skies turned the colour of wet slate. The narrow roads from Mysore and Bangalore grew empty. The resorts on the hilltops pulled in their awnings. But for Neelamma, who had lived in her grandfather’s wooden cottage—a ainmane —for sixty-seven years, the world was just beginning to breathe. coorg best season
They heard the deep, croaking call of a frog, the drip-drip-drip from a leak in the corner that Neelamma had placed a brass pot under, creating a gentle plink like a temple bell. They watched the steam rise from their coffee mugs. This was Neelamma’s time