Wednesday, January 22

Lulu Mall, 17:00
I woke up to extremely sad news. I learned via several WhatsApp messages that Lekshmi’s brother (Shivan, aged 20) had committed suicide in his bedroom yesterday evening. Much of the day got rearranged before it had even started.
We went to visit Lekshmi in the afternoon. Because of the inevitable chaos, we arrived before the police had released the body. I have never seen someone in such agonising distress, and as I talked with her I found myself spiralling backwards to the moment when I learned Auo had died. Lekshmi’s pain seemed made from the same razor-sharp cloth as ours, and it cut right through me.
I remembered how that felt in a way that I hadn’t for years. So, I could see, did Irma. We also witnessed again how suddenly and irrevocably things change. Yesterday Lekshmi had tried to get a little girl to impersonate me, and couldn’t stop giggling at the result. Today she can barely see people or understand their words.
We stayed as long as felt right and both went to leave at the same time. I photographed nothing while we visited.
We knew we had to get some things from Lulu mall to move the dog-exporting business forward, and so off we went, unusually silent and deep in our thoughts.
When we arrived at the mall we decided to avoid Starbucks and head for Baskin Robbins. We had triple scoops for the first time in our lives. I had Bavarian chocolate, Blackcurrant Haze and Missisippi mud. Irma had three completely different kinds that included peanut butter, pistachio and something else.
This bizarre non sequitur felt extremely uncomfortable and jarring, but what purpose would it have served not to eat ice cream?