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Grandmother trains me when to slip and slide and change, and when to remain inert. She tells me, “It is true, women are the keepers. We are keepers of silverware, the bites of savouries in our broth. We are the sole keepers of the keys to the almari. But child, what we really excel at is adapting. Outward, we appear fixed, planted as feet, but we are also amphibians, pulling our families through land and sea when catastrophe strikes.
