The Name Under The Tamarind
Never answer if the tamarind calls your name. What if it uses the name only one man used?
In the summer of 1997, a boy spends his first holiday in ammamma's village without tatayya, whose chair still sits empty on the verandah. Halfway down the cart road stands an old tamarind tree that every child knows not to pass after sunset. His cousin from guntur says the ghost is only there to guard the best pods in the district, and the pods are ripe. At seven o clock, with ammamma at the bhajan, the two of them go to fill their shirts.
