<\/p>\n
\u201cDev! Get in the car!\u201d Mom shrieked.<\/span><\/p>\n Twelve-year-old Dev Sharma scowled, pulling his sweater over his <\/span>kurta pajamas<\/span><\/i>. The ninth night of Navaratri was upon them, and they were going to the local temple to celebrate Sarasvati Pooja with the other Indian families in town. As far as he was concerned, Navaratri was a <\/span>girl\u2019s<\/span><\/i> thing, and he had absolutely no interest in going. He grabbed his violin case, heading down the steps.<\/span><\/p>\n His fourteen-year-old brother, Raj, stood with Mom, holding his own violin case proudly in his hand. His hair was well-combed, and his <\/span>poonal <\/span><\/i>peeked slightly out from his collar. The <\/span>poonal <\/span><\/i>was a string, granted to young Tamil Brahmin boys just before their teenage years. They\u2019d gone to Chennai this past summer for the stupid poonal ceremony, where the string was placed on their chests and they were proudly declared as new members of the community or whatever. Dev had made quite a fuss to take off his shirt and wear the string, standing in the insufferable Indian heat and tuning out boring shlokas sung by old <\/span>swamis<\/span><\/i>. Needless to say, Raj had loved it. <\/span>He always enjoys being the center-of-attention, doesn\u2019t he?<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n He got into the backseat with his brother, each holding his violin case on his lap. Mom got into the driver\u2019s seat with a tray of food on her lap, reversing like a maniac. They narrowly avoided the neighbor\u2019s trash can, jerkily stopping just before they could hit the curb. Then they zoomed off, straight towards the main road.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDev, you keep delaying us,\u201d Mom chided. \u201cWhy can\u2019t you be more like Raj? Raj is <\/span>always <\/span><\/i>on-time. Raj doesn\u2019t put a fuss about celebrating our customs!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Dev stopped himself from making a snarky comment back. Kaikeyi Sharma always favored her older son over Dev. Raj was always on-time, Raj was neat, Raj was a good student \u2013 in fact, he would probably be the valedictorian of his eighth-grade class come June. But worst of all, he was one of the best young violinists in the state. Whereas Dev was your average youth orchestra violinist, Raj had been the <\/span>concertmaster<\/span><\/i> of the New Jersey All-State Middle School Orchestra in May. He\u2019d even been photographed with their representative from the New Jersey Legislature. <\/span>Perfect <\/span><\/i>Raj was way better than Dev, in all ways possible.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThis is gonna be fun,\u201d Raj grinned, clapping Dev on the back. \u201cExcited, little bro?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t <\/span>call <\/span><\/i>me that,\u201d Dev grumbled.<\/span><\/p>\n They pulled up at the temple, taking their shoes on at the front. Mostly women were there, flocking around in colorful sarees \u2013 but there were men and kids as well. Bored, Dev followed Raj and their mom into the temple, where hot food was being served by volunteers. There was <\/span>choondal <\/span><\/i>(dry black chickpeas), <\/span>vada <\/span><\/i>(fried lentil bagel), <\/span>thiyrsadham <\/span><\/i>(yogurt and rice), <\/span>pongal <\/span><\/i>(rice with moong dhal, coconut, raisins, cashews, and ghee), <\/span>payasam <\/span><\/i>(sweetened milk with fried vermicelli), and Mom\u2019s coconut <\/span>burfi <\/span><\/i>(squares of sugared coconut). Dev didn\u2019t like Indian food, not when he could have pasta and pizza, but of course Raj loved it. Dev took as little food as possible. While Raj and Mom went to say hi to the gossipy aunties and uncles, Dev stood with the other kids.<\/span><\/p>\n Ahead of him was a <\/span>Golu <\/span><\/i>\u2013 a stepped sort of altar with idols placed carefully atop. The Tamil tradition of <\/span>Golu <\/span><\/i>involved taking a set of steps, and placing on it dolls of the gods. These dolls were some of the <\/span>hugest <\/span><\/i>Dev had ever seen \u2013 clearly, the community had pitched in quite a bit. On the top step were the most important gods \u2013 including Maa Sarasvati herself, holding a <\/span>veenai <\/span><\/i>(stringed musical instrument) and sitting atop a lotus carried by a swan. The less important gods were placed lower and lower. At the base of the Golu was a set of toy cars and Lego men, placed by the other kids, who were walking around the Golu in admiration.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cGather around, kids!\u201d someone called. A <\/span>swamini<\/span><\/i>, wearing a plain white saree, motioned for Dev and the other kids to sit on the mat in front of her. \u201cWant to hear a story?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201c<\/span>Yes<\/span><\/i>!\u201d the kids shouted.<\/span><\/p>\n Dev rolled his eyes. The swamini told the same story every year, which was about as redundant as a math worksheet. Still, it was better than talking to the aunties and uncles about what grade he was in (one up from last year), if he liked school (he did not), how his violin was coming along (horrible), and to hear them fawning over his stupid kurta. None of the other boys and men even showed up in Indian dress; Mom, however, insisted her boys be held to the same standard as the girls.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNavaratri means \u2018nine nights\u2019,\u201d the swamini explained. \u201cIt is celebrated all over India, and is one of our proudest festivals. Today we are celebrating Sarasvati Pooja, the most special of them all. In Tamil Nadu, there are three main poojas \u2013 Durga Pooja on the third night, Lakshmi Pooja on the sixth night, and Sarasvati Pooja on the ninth night.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt all started when the great demon Mahishasura received a boon from Lord Brahma.\u00a0 Mahishasura asked for complete invincibility, but Lord Brahma said there must be a limit, for everyone\u2019s time in this world comes to an end eventually \u2013 even that of the gods. So Mahishasura wished neither man nor god would be able to kill him. Can you guess what happened next?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cA cow stomped on his head!\u201d a little boy shouted.<\/span><\/p>\n The swamini laughed. \u201cNo, that\u2019s not it. When Mahishasura asked for neither man nor god to kill him, he left out <\/span>woman<\/span><\/i>! The celebration is of the nine nights of battle between Mahishasura and the Supreme Goddess, and Her eventual triumph. Today is the last night of the battle. Tomorrow, <\/span>Vijaya Dashami<\/span><\/i>, can be translated to mean \u2018Victory on the Tenth Day\u2019. Today, we celebrate Sarasvati, the Goddess of Music and Education.\u201d She smiled. \u201cI see plenty of you have come prepared to perform.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n It was the custom for people of the community to celebrate Navaratri with music and dancing. Most of the others were singing, though several girls had come dressed to perform <\/span>Bharatnatyam <\/span><\/i>\u2013 the traditional South Indian classical dance. There were other violinists too, but they played South Indian classical violin \u2013 Carnatic violin. In fact, Dev and his brother were the only ones there to perform Western classical violin. His head whirled as he thought of Raj\u2019s upcoming performance that night.<\/span><\/p>\n While Dev was still stuck playing intermediate violin pieces, Raj was playing the <\/span>Paganini Caprices<\/span><\/i>. It was extremely advanced repertoire \u2013 after all, it was written by a guy who\u2019d been able to play three octaves over all four strings, with just <\/span>one handspan<\/span><\/i>. How could Dev ever compete with <\/span>that<\/span><\/i>? He was instead playing a typical violin solo, with a family friend accompanying him on piano.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLittle Dev!\u201d someone shouted. Dev gasped as someone grabbed him in a tight hug, and he whirled around. An aunty stood over him, her heavy makeup making her look like a vulture; she smacked two lipstick kisses on Dev\u2019s cheeks.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve grown so much!\u201d she beamed. \u201cWhat grade are you in? How\u2019s school? How\u2019s your violin? That kurta looks <\/span>amazing<\/span><\/i>!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d Dev muttered, looking desperately around. There was just no way to avoid social interaction, it seemed. The aunty\u2019s smile widened as she looked at him.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI just spoke with your brother,\u201d she said. \u201cHe says he\u2019s doing <\/span>excellently<\/span><\/i>. Top of the class as always, right? Oh, and I can\u2019t wait to hear him play violin! He\u2019ll sound <\/span>so good<\/span><\/i> tonight!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Dev wished he had his Air Pods right now. He would\u2019ve shoved them into his ears and listened to music all night! But <\/span>no<\/span><\/i>, Mom had made him leave his phone at home. Not noticing his expression, the aunty continued talking.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou must be very proud of your brother,\u201d she declared. \u201cHe made that All-State thing last May \u2013 your mom was just telling me about it! College applications will be a breeze for\u201d \u2013<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDev!\u201d someone shouted. \u201c<\/span>There<\/span><\/i> you are!\u201d<\/span> \u201cWe were just talking about you,\u201d the aunty smiled. \u201cYou are <\/span>so talented<\/span><\/i>! Dev is lucky to have a big brother like you!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d To Dev\u2019s surprise, Raj looked slightly embarrassed. \u201cThanks, Aunty.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019ll go speak to your mom now.\u201d The aunty turned away. \u201cI <\/span>must <\/span><\/i>sample the coconut burfi!\u201d She headed off, straight towards the table.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cGood thing I caught you,\u201d Raj panted. \u201cIt\u2019s so <\/span>boooooring<\/span><\/i>, talking to the aunties and uncles! They ask the same questions <\/span>every single time<\/span><\/i>!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSo?\u201d Dev suddenly exploded. \u201cYou like the attention, don\u2019t you? Everyone talking about how great you are and how well you play. It must suck to be so great at everything all the time!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Raj took a step back. \u201cWhat\u2019re you <\/span>talking <\/span><\/i>about?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cEveryone keeps talking about how you play so well!\u201d Dev ranted. \u201cNo one looks at <\/span>me<\/span><\/i>. You\u2019re so <\/span>perfect <\/span><\/i>all the time!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDo you think it\u2019s easy for <\/span>me<\/span><\/i>?\u201d Raj protested. \u201cThere\u2019s so much pressure! Mom expects me to do well in <\/span>everything<\/span><\/i>. I can\u2019t even do anything else!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAt least Mom <\/span>loves<\/span><\/i> you!\u201d Dev stormed out past the Golu, through the back door.<\/span><\/p>\n The night was cold as he reached the backside of the temple. A small garden was there, and stone benches all around; he sat on one, wincing at the cold. All he had with him was his violin case. For the first time since his practice that morning, he opened the case, picking his violin out.<\/span><\/p>\n It was a very old violin, passed from father to son in his family. His father had given it to him once he\u2019d grown into a full-size violin \u2013 and was basically the only thing he had left of his father\u2019s. It had originally been some old British dude\u2019s violin, but an ancestor who\u2019d worked as a sepoy had been gifted the violin. The sepoy had tuned the violin for Carnatic music, and then had begun the tradition of violin in his family. And now that Dev owned it, it was in Western tuning once more. He had a more professional violin at home, like the one Raj played, but he preferred this much more.<\/span><\/p>\n Then, tears flowed down his eyes. He\u2019d put so much effort into his <\/span>own <\/span><\/i>music \u2013 he would be playing the J.B. Accolay concerto that night. It was such an intense piece, with ups and downs, and finally the big triumph at the end. However hard he\u2019d practiced, however much he <\/span>liked <\/span><\/i>practicing \u2013 it was never enough. At the end of the day, everyone would be talking about Raj and no one would be talking about him.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDev!\u201d The boy turned around to see Mom rushing out the door, nearly tripping over her saree. \u201cWhy\u2019d you come out in the cold, <\/span>Kanna<\/span><\/i>? Raj told me you were upset!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBecause you always talk about how good Raj is!\u201d Dev cried. \u201cHe\u2019s the best violinist ever! Meanwhile, you yell at me all the time!\u201d He glared at the ground, tears falling straight onto the pavement.<\/span><\/p>\n For a second, Dev thought his mother was going to yell back at him. But she stayed silent. To Dev\u2019s even bigger surprise, she sat next to him on the bench and placed her arm around his shoulder.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d she admitted. \u201cI <\/span>do <\/span><\/i>treat you differently from Raj. Sometimes, Raj is just easier to handle. Maybe it\u2019s because he\u2019s older\u2026 but whatever the case, he\u2019s generally more sociable than you are. But that doesn\u2019t mean I love you any less. Do you remember your poonal ceremony this summer, Kanna?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHow could I forget?\u201d Dev muttered.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI never wanted to do a poonal for either of you boys,\u201d Mom said, and Dev stared up at her in surprise. \u201cPartially because there\u2019s no equivalent for girls \u2013 and also, because I know it was another thing to stress about. You\u2019ve just started middle-school, and Raj is now looking at exams to get into the magnet high-school. But your father insisted. We agreed if I took you boys for the poonal ceremony, he would come to visit more often, instead of just working in Chennai.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBut then he started talking about how he wouldn\u2019t be able to come to visit the U.S., because of his work, and I just couldn\u2019t deal with it. I told him he had to have a relationship with you kids, which he didn\u2019t want. That\u2019s why he cut us out of his life. It\u2019s been a lot of pressure for all of us.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cRaj doesn\u2019t seem to be bothered,\u201d Dev protested.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cRaj handles these things differently than you,\u201d Mom answered. \u201cWhen he\u2019s stressed, he <\/span>talks <\/span><\/i>about how he feels. When you\u2019re stressed, you keep it inside. You\u2019re both so talented and hardworking \u2013 sometimes, I forget how young you are. Raj told me the other day I was putting pressure on him. I\u2019ll try to stop pushing you both too much, and I\u2019ll try to stop comparing, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Silence. For the first time, Dev felt some sympathy for his brother, seeing how his position was difficult as well. Raj probably missed their dad a lot, too. And the pressure of being the best all the time \u2013 he understood how that was difficult.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBut I don\u2019t want you to give up your violin because of this, Dev,\u201d Mom continued. \u201cYou love it so much. I\u2019ve seen how your eyes light up whenever you practice, especially that new concerto you really love. Raj may have lots of natural talent, but you work <\/span>hard<\/span><\/i>, Kanna. You <\/span>both<\/span><\/i> work hard, of course \u2013 but you show us how to not give up, even when things are hard. So go out there and play. No matter how you do, we will enjoy it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span> Dev looked to see Raj run towards him. \u201cHi, Aunty,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n