Godavari raised her own knees and rested her chin on them. Softly, she told the girl that she, Godavari, would personally make sure no one ever hurt her again. She talked about the wonderful place the NGO compound was, a safe haven where there was no harshness, only love. She talked about the children the girl could play with, the room she’d be assigned, the toys she could ask for, the fun she’d have.
The child refused to acknowledge Godavari’s presence.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I promise. But will you tell me your name?”
The girl’s muscles bunched up, but she did not respond.
Tentatively, Godavari touched the girl’s shoulder.
“No!” the girl shouted, as she reared back. “Don’t touch me!”
And, after three long, painful, lonely years, Godavari looked directly into the face of her beloved daughter.
The End
Thank You For Reading This Story
If you enjoyed The Temple Is Not My Father – or even if you didn’t! – and feel inclined to leave a review on your retailer’s and/or any other website, it would helpful for the author to understand how her story was received, and to see how she can improve her work in future. Thank you!
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This story has been beta-read, proofed multiple times, and professionally edited. She is human, however. If you spot an error, she would appreciate an email at [email protected].
About The Author
Rasana is the author of Tell A Thousand Lies, which was also shortlisted for the 2012 Tibor Jones South Asia award. UK’s Glam magazine calls this novel one of their five favourite tales from India (June 2014). Her other works, which range from comedy to tragedy, are The Temple Is Not My Father and Twenty-Eight Years A Bachelor (coming by the end of 2014).
Now on to more personal stuff – Rasana would like to be able to tell her readers that she once stopped a robbery single-handedly, except she’s terrified of robbers. And geckos. And two-year-olds who throw tantrums. When she’s not running scared, she’s mother to a girl and a boy who were respectively six and eleven years-old when they wrote and illustrated The Mosquito and the Teapot. She lives with her husband and children in Hyderabad, India, where a lot of her stories are set.
Email [email protected]
Website http://RasanaAtreya.com
Blog for Writers http://RasanaAtreya.wordpress.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/rasana_atreya
LinkedIn http://in.linkedin.com/in/RasanaAtreya
Goodreads http://goodreads.com/Rasana_Atreya
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Copyright 2014 Rasana Atreya
Rasana Atreya has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the author’s consent in any form other than this current form and without a similar condition being imposed upon a subsequent purchaser.
The Temple Is Not My Father is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
http://rasanaatreya.com
Cover art Manoj Vijayan
http://www.inkbugdesign.com
Acknowledgements
A lot of people encouraged, critiqued, proofread and handheld me through the writing of this story. They are (in no particular order): Shannon Bozarth, Vrinda Baliga, Yael Politis, Ameeta Agnihotri, Rajani Kumar, Adite Banerjie, my husband, Aditya Gurajada, and my sister, Vandana Atreya.
A huge thanks to my editor, Sheila M. Clark.
For helping me fill in details about the various rituals and traditions in rural Andhra Pradesh, I owe my mother-in-law, Mrs. G. Satyakumari, a debt of gratitude.
The Temple Is Not My Father: A Story Set in India Page 5
