Chapter 2: Plant response to elevated CO2 - DRUM - University of ...

“I am Megha,” she said wondering if she should shake hands or just fold
them in a namaste. Unsure, she just smiled and let her hands fall back.
They entered the hut, the one which was decorated with beautiful
geometric designs. Against the mud‐colored, gobar spread wall, the designs
stood out, white superimposed on beige. Megha stood outside admiring them
and remarked that she found them beautiful; the girl’s face lit up. When they
entered Megha noticed the silhouette of a man sitting on his haunches, his
attention held by a wick of a lantern. He worked at oiling it, twirling it so that it
would straighten, be ready to receive light. As soon as he heard them, he glanced
at them and then, surprised, he stood up, appraising Megha. The man was much
older; Megha guessed him to be Durga’s father and this was confirmed when
Durga introduced the two. He wore a dhoti and a white kurta, and a bright
colorful bandhani turban. His long moustache twirled outwards at the ends as if
he spent many a morning, oiling them, grooming them.
“Come in Bén,” he stood aside and immediately pulled down a string cot,
motioning her to sit. Durga brought her a glass of water. The aluminum glass
looked well used, cracking at the rim, but it was shining, clean. As Megha drank
the metallic tasting water she could feel Durga’s gaze appraising her and she felt
51