Please Paint Me Caramel

By Shakti Bliss

A few years after the island of Mauritius gained independence from Great Britain, people and cultures collide and navigate life as Shakti, a little girl tries to make sense of the world and find her way.

Testimonials

Jackee Holder: Author, Coach, Trainer
“Thank you dear one for sharing this powerful story with us. I really appreciated the way in which Shakti tells her story. I was totally engaged. The chapters were so readable. I found myself swooning as she shared her mystical experiences in the temple. Shakti has this way of going deep without saying a lot. I noticed this in her collection of autobiographical poems “I: A Woman Speaking Up”. This is a powerful testimony of overcoming life’s adversity. Shakti explores taboo subjects such as colourism with honesty and grace. This is a story of moving from turbulence to triumph. The shortness of the chapters kept me wanting to keep turning the page. Shakti’s voice encourages the reader to reclaim their lives and to frame a new empowered story.”


Dr Janet Balabanovic: Counselling Psychologist
“Shakti bears her soul in this intimate collection of childhood memories. Please Paint Me Caramel delivers a beautifully evocative account of a childhood of relative privilege in Mauritius, a childhood which is richly suffused with vibrant and colourful memories of religious festivals and cultural traditions. Disturbingly, this is uneasily juxtaposed alongside a powerful undercurrent of emotional abuse disguised as love and protection. Suffocating demands and expectations are justified to protect and safeguard the future of a young girl who was born “too dark”, “with bad blood” and “in the wrong month”. The crushing weight of her family’s fears is keenly felt as the little girl grapples with her perceived defects and secretly and repeatedly prays to be painted caramel to secure her place in the world as a marriageable woman in a society that dictates only one path to a good and worthwhile life. A poignant reminder of the devastating impact of parental and culturally-bound conditions of worth on individual self-acceptance.”


Jane Yeadon, Author, Scotland
“This is an important book written from the heart- breakingly honest viewpoint of a child bewildered and marked by tradition and her family's adherence to it. Care, compassion and humour are the colours Shakti brings to her pages. She has brought the characters, traditions, and the emotions of her Mauritian childhood brilliantly to life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665591430

Book preview

AuthorHouse™ UK

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© 2023 Shakti Bliss. All rights reserved.

© 2023 Front cover artwork by Shakti Bliss

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/04/2023

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9142-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9143-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

PART 1

Chapter 1 It Is All Planned

Chapter 2 Is It A Good Time?

Chapter 3 Dépéché, Dépéché, Hurry Up

Chapter 4 Ready Or Not

Chapter 5 What Is This?

Chapter 6 Oh Dear!

PART 2

Chapter 7 Good Omens And Bad Omens

Chapter 8 What’s In A Name?

Chapter 9 Shakti Offers You Her First Smile

PART 3

Chapter 10 Everything Must Match

Chapter 11 Princess Francès: Nanny Extraordinaire

Chapter 12 Social Status And Hierarchies

Chapter 13 Keep Her In Pastel Colours And Out Of The Sun

Chapter 14 Gracious Lydie And Queen Victoria

Chapter 15 Père Laval

Chapter 16 Paradise In Sainte Croix

PART 4

Chapter 17 Detox À La Mauricienne

Chapter 18 Crossing India In A Day: The Feat Of Lord Rama

Chapter 19 Deepavali At La Rue Monsieur

Chapter 20 Goddess Of Beauty: Please Help Me

Chapter 21 Quarante Heures in Bel Air

Chapter 22 The Saint Sacristi

Chapter 23 The Worthless One

Chapter 24 My First Almost Marriage Proposal

PART 5

Chapter 25 Grandpère: A Man Of Few Words And Much Rum

Chapter 26 Family History Comes In Different Forms

Chapter 27 Forced Exile

Chapter 28 The Dance Of People, Fruits And Vegetables

Chapter 29 Jean: The Chagos Prince Of Tides

PART 6

Chapter 30 Tifi: Glorious Queen Of Hearts

Chapter 31 The Two Matriarchs

Chapter 32 In The Name Of Beauty

Chapter 33 Saturday Morning Cleaning

Chapter 34 Respect and The Fisherman’s Catch

Chapter 35 The Grand Tour Of The Illois Community

PART 7

Chapter 36 Praised Be The Goddess

Chapter 37 Fire Walking At The Kali Temple

Chapter 38 Even Hindu Deities Are Fair

Chapter 39 Yellow is the colour. Bliss is the way

Chapter 40 The Gift Of My Heart

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

MORE PLEASE PAINT ME …

WHO IS SHAKTI?

OTHER NON-FICTION FROM SHAKTI

UPCOMING BOOK: SUNDARI’S FOOTSTEPS

NOTE TO MY READERS

Dear reader,

This book is based on true events and people.

Really!

Above all, it is a love letter to the people I adore and the island I cherish.

It is a story about belonging and about longing to belong.

It is a story about joy and heartache.

It is my story.

PROLOGUE

"You gather the idea that Mauritius was

made first, and then Heaven; and that

Heaven was copied after Mauritius"

(Mark Twain, Following the Equator, 1897)

This is where I was born.

This is where I grew up.

This is where I prayed and pleaded Please Paint Me Caramel. This is where many rituals of beauty and good fortune were thrust upon me. This is where I basked in tradition and love. This is where I fell into the grips of despair.

That’s how…

PART 1

CHAPTER ONE

It Is All Planned

She was not born that way, Grandma used to tell strangers. She has long stopped doing so. Now she pretends that there is nothing wrong with Mami. No one dares to contradict her.

Like a good wife Mami dutifully fell pregnant almost as soon as she was married. She did not tell anyone that her doctor had strongly advised her against it. She wanted a baby.

As soon as her wedding night was over, she inserted the thermometer into her every day. She no longer risked tampering with her status as a virgin. Her big sister Padma had explained to her that this was a good way of determining if her body was fertile or not. She was ready to conceive. She did not trust nature to do its work; not for her any haphazard occurring. She had a plan. She always had a plan. Padma had already promptly produced a son with the help of a thermometer. A daughter followed a year later with the help of the same thermometer. A son, then a daughter: That was the correct way. She too would have her son. Her beautiful fair son.

The astute daily monitoring of her body temperature, every morning, every early evening, facilitated a prompt fertilisation. Her second biggest dream in life was on course. It was now time to finalise the planning of her son’s life, from the day of his expected birth at the end of September. She had thought about the details for years; long before she was married or even had any prospect of being so. Her mother often thought that would never happen. Yet, the old lady kept on praying in the temples, churches and shrines across the island for her youngest daughter. Mami, on the other hand, never gave up hope, no matter what others said about her behind her back or to her face; no matter how they looked at her.

She had practised the colourful embroidery to be on the baby’s white trousseau, the type of nanny, the kindergarten, the Roman Catholic schooling for the primary cycle, the top secondary school of the island, the university and then the career: doctor or lawyer of course. Roman catholic primary schools were the best. The nuns were well known for being strict and disciplined. Only the top two professions of the community would be fit for her son. She had decided it all.

Daddy, her husband, might have liked a daughter. She did not ask. He did not say.

19th July, she is found in a puddle of blood.

CHAPTER TWO

Is It A Good Time?

Grandma’s two thick gold bangles jangle on her right wrist as she pulls the folds of her dark brown saree more tightly across her bosom and flips it over her left shoulder. There are no bright colours for her anymore; not for the past twenty years since she became a widow at thirty-three years old.

Her name is Sundari. It means beauty in Sanskrit, the sacred language of India. But no one calls her by her name except her only living big brother. She is called Madame Chetty by most people or Aka by her Tamil connections. Aka is a sign of respect and means big sister in Tamil. She is not one for closer friendships. Some people call her Tantine; this means aunty in creole, our local language. Her nephews and nieces call her Ma Tante, the French polite version. Her family is from Pondicherry, the French part of the Tamil community in India. They are very different from the rest of the Tamils in Mauritius or even the rest of South India. They are very French. Even their food is a bit different. They use red wine in their cooking unlike the rest of the Tamil families.

With a sweep of the back of her hand, she sends the beads of perspiration descending along her cheekbone, flying past her right ear. She smoothens the white bun settling on the nape of her neck. Coconut oil has long banished flyaway strands.

At 5 ft 2, her roundness makes her a little on the plump side. Her gaze darts from the bed where Mami is crouching in pain to the big clock on the wall, then back at Mami. She frowns. The beads of sweat are back.

Ati. Ati month for a first baby to be born. Hmmm! Is this a good time of day at least? She cannot remember. She usually remembers such things. Now, she cannot remember.

A very religious Tamil, and a Hindu, Grandma is obsessed with the good times and bad times stipulated by the Tamil calendar and the priests at the temples. She also has her own version of numerology. Nothing escapes this schedule: no month, no day, no hour. There are good days, like Mondays and Fridays, and bad days like Tuesdays. There are also not so good months like Ati. There are also good times of the day and bad times of the day. Day or night is also significant to her.

There are twelve months in the Tamil calendar. All start from around the 15th of the usual months. The new year starts in April. The months are called: Cittirai, Vaikaci, Ani, Ati, Avani, Purattaci, Aippasi, Karttikai, Markali, Tai, Maci and Pankuni. Of all, Ati is the least auspicious. There are no weddings or house moves during that month. She also says that it is not a good idea to buy a new car or anything important during that month. Nobody knows why. Nobody questions this. Nobody dares to go against tradition. It is just how it is.

Many things are just how it is in Mauritius. Perhaps this is because it is a cosmopolitan island. Tamils, Hindis, Chinese, Muslims, French and Creoles all live here. Tamils are Hindus from the South of India and Hindis are from the North part of India. There are a few Gujaratis, Telegus and Marathis here too. They are other types of Hindus. The Muslims were from the Northern part of India, before India got divided into two by the British: Pakistan and India. Creoles are the descendants of the slaves, who were brought to work in the sugar cane plantations from East Africa, mainly Zanzibar. All our ancestors came by boat three generations ago. Before that there were only birds. This is because Mauritius is a volcanic island. One day a volcano erupted in the middle of the Indian Ocean and here it was.

Since independence was gained from Great Britain two years ago in 1968, our government has been trying to make sure that every culture is honoured. So, New Year’s Day is celebrated several times throughout the year. Tamils like my family enjoy Varusha Pirrapu in mid-April. For the Chinese community, the Lunar New Year also called Spring Festival is in either January or February. Telegus celebrate Ugadi, their New