“She has a natural smile,” they used to gush about my maa. And I believed them. After all, she had prepared five different snacks for fifty guests on the occasion of her own anniversary, without a complaint, and still managed to pose in front of the camera, her lips curved slightly upwards. When I had fever, she used to stay awake, ignoring the nagging ache in her chest, smiling, as if consoling me, “I am there for you, my baby.” A wiser me later on realised that a mother’s smile can be deceptive, for it doesn’t reach her eyes.