The Care Package

a short story by yamuna meleth

She could smell the ash and wood of the sambrani that her mom had sent from India before she had even grabbed a box cutter. The care package had spent about thirty minutes baking under the valley sun, allowing the notes of acacia and vetiver to wedge their scent into the scotch tape. It had come in a Nespresso box- one that had been delivered in Georgia a few days before and that held pods for the machine she had gifted her mother two Christmases ago. The gift seemed thoughtful in the moment but now all she could think about was that her mother was forced to buy the exorbitantly priced pods every time she was under the threat of running out of coffee. She knew that wasn’t entirely true, she knew the house in Georgia was wall-to-wall with tea varieties and filter coffees for her father. “Still,” she thought, “next Christmas I need to be more forward-thinking about her gift.”

It’s a strange burden to bear, that of having a wonderful mother. It hadn’t been without its hiccups and challenges but for the most part and definitely for at least the last decade, she had the kind of mother people could only ever dream of. It was never lost on her, some days it was all she could think about. She touched her hand to her stomach lightly hoping that one day she would be able to show the same love to her own daughter but dropped it as soon as she felt the bristle of a wish unfulfilled creep up her spine. She turned her attention back to the box.

She pried into it and liberated the scent of the sambrani, kalangali vellum (Ayurvedic herbal tea), and vetiver. Her dog gave her his best doe-eyes, wondering if maybe this was one of those boxes that comes with those smoky bones or fresh food. She bent down to pat his head and grabbed a peanut butter treat to give him. He had recently learned how to turn around. She was raising a good dog. “That’s something. That’s nurturing.” she muttered to herself as she unwound the bubble tape and popped the air packets. Just under the packaging she saw the first gift: a silver murti of the goddess Lakshmi. It was unbelievable timing. This package had made its way from India to Burbank just in time for the 4th day of Navratri, when Hindus all over the would be worshiping the goddess of wealth and beauty and praying for their wishes to come true. “This is definitely a sign,” she assured herself, “you are on the right path. Everything is unfolding in your favor. Abundance has arrived at your doorstep.”

Item by item, she felt the love of her foremothers fill her apartment. The herbs that her newly widowed aunt had foraged, powdered, and packed in an air-tight container. The flat-rice spoon her late grandmother’s baby sister had taken from her own collection, one that had scooped piles and piles of mata rice onto hungry metal plates. The small gold trident nose ring she knew her mom had seen and felt was perfect for her precious daughter. All of it, in the middle of Navratri, to an apartment in California. She was worried about her life, that much had been true for years, but she let the magic of the care package rise up and wrap her in her own ancestry. She tossed her dog another peanut butter treat, took a deep breath, and grounded herself in the reminder that she comes from a real place with real roots and a real story to tell.

Thanks for reading this! Yamuna Meleth is an singer, actor, and intuitive healer that lives in Los Angeles, California with her dog, Oliver. Follow along for more and for more content subscribe to my Youtube, TikTok, and Instagram, all @hinduitive.