Translated short fiction: A peculiar fever grips Amma during the cotton harvesting season

When we reached the Kumbakonam bus station that morning, the time was half past six. It was made possible only because we had woken up as early as 4 am. Amma got down from the bus and told us that her legs had gone numb. She took each step carefully, as if walking on water. From a tea shop at the bus station, Appa got us coffee to drink and tea for himself. As soon as she took a sip of coffee from the cup, Amma’s left hand automatically reached behind her saree to scratch her lower back. This happened every time she drank something hot. She would begin sweating and when she did, the itching would take over. Although we were used to it by now, the looks we got from the tea shop made me feel awkward. By the time we finished our drink a bus to Tirunageswaram town was ready to leave from the bay on the other side. We boarded the bus and arrived at Muthupillai Mandapam.

As we entered the premises of Sacred Heart Hospital, we encountered different kinds of patients. Those with half their fingers melting away, those with their skin peeling off in white...

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