APARAJITA

More than a year later when classes reopen, a vine of aparajita flowers (Asian pigeonwings) has thrown a blanket of purple petals over the arching school gates. Sharini’s classmates—hungry-eyed, giggling tenth-graders—spill under the floral canopy to be reunited with the last of their school days before they would dissolve again. She wades through the sea of uniforms until she locates Aman, her best friend.

When she finds him, his gaunt face and the stubble on his chin makes him look strangely like a young man, much older than the boy of fifteen