The Golden Farce
The sash had a weight to it that my shoulders did not anticipate, a golden strip of fabric that felt less like honor and more like a noose being slowly tightened around the throat of my dignity. I remember the cold now, a specific, biting chill that seeped through the ceremonial tunic and settled into the marrow of my bones, a cold that had nothing to do with the climate of the Kerala...
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