Sometimes, language does double duty. The way Vinayagam and Ganga wield Tamil, it does quadruple duty. It burns like Shiva’s third eye. It will melt diamond.
Today Ganga complained that the sari she was washing in our bathroom was bleeding color. She wanted more detergent powder. Vinayagam, whose ordained duty it is to supply everything in the house, handed her a box, saying, “Here, Old Woman. Kottiko.”
As I hinted earlier about the vagaries of language, the word “kottiko” may have several meanings, depending on the situation. In this instance, he was merely telling the old woman to sprinkle as much powder as she needed for the washing. But Ganga took offense. She decided to go to the caustic edge and look down at life from there. Kottiko can also mean “eat.”
“Sweetheart, now why would you tell me to eat this?” she asked. “Do you want me to leave this world?” Vinayagam cackled, assuring her, in his most impertinent manner, that she was free to interpret the situation however she wanted but that he never once meant it that way.
Hearing the commotion in the kitchen, I ran up to her and assured her that I could never ever live a day without her and that it wasn’t the time for her to go. Ganga laughed. She stalked off proudly in the direction of the bathroom, detergent box in hand.