stay before Chanda-Teacher spoke to them.
Chanda-Teacher tried to comfort me by saying that many of my teachers were even more impressed with my academic success when they learned of my background, but that made me feel worse. It was like everyone expected me to be stupid or lazy just because my mother was a sex worker. Didn’t they know it was because of my mother that I studied so hard? Ma suffered to send me to school. The teachers had things completely backwards.
“I have to do this, Paru.”
“I still don’t understand what the foreigners want.”
I didn’t have time to answer as just then a gleaming silver SUV turned into our lane and stopped. I glanced back at our house to where Adit was leaning on the wall out front. He’d followed me outside. In the old days I would have invited him along but we weren’t friends anymore. Adit said he had no time to waste with girls. I’d heard he was working in one of the gambling houses, running errands. I prayed he wouldn’t tell Ma what I was up to. It made me nervous, the way he watched me.
“I’ll let you do the talking,” said Parvati.
I hid a smile. I doubted Parvati’s English would have been up to doing the talking and it was me the foreigners were coming to meet, not her.
“If I nudge you,” she continued, “it means there’s something suspicious going on and we must make an excuse and leave.”
I gave her a solemn nod. I couldn’t admit that secretly I hoped the white girl was serious about being my friend. Parvati would have said I was foolish. Even worse would have been to share my hope that perhaps the foreigner understood, even more than Parvati, that my too-dark skin and my mother’s work weren’t the whole story of who I was. The white girl didn’t come from a world where people were judged by the caste they were born into.
The car doors opened and suddenly she was there in front of me. Vijender Patel climbed out on the other side. Parvati gasped. I hadn’t told her about Vijender. There was no way she would have agreed to spend the day with him. The only people Parvati mistrusted more than foreigners were film stars. Every once in a while they showed up in our neighborhood, taking photos of themselves handing out cheap toys to the poor children, which was us. They always promised they were going to make our lives better but the promises were broken as quickly as the toys.
Vijender came round the car and again held out his hand to me. This time I didn’t let my nerves show. I shook it and politely introduced him to Parvati.
“Pleased to meet you, Parvati,” he said. “Will you be joining us today?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by joining him, since we were just going to sit in a local café.
“Hi, Noor,” said Grace. “It’s nice to see you again.”
I was reassured to have the same good feeling about her as before.
Aamaal raced over from the rubbish heap and leaped on VJ Patel. She must have recognized him from billboards or TV commercials. I would have smacked her for her boldness if we’d been alone.
“Hello,” laughed VJ, pretending he liked nothing better than little girls leaping onto his back. He pranced around in a circle for a moment and whinnied like a horse. It was funny and got us through the awkwardness, but she was still going to get a scolding later.
“And who might you be, young sir?” asked VJ, speaking in Hindi to Shami, who had just woken up.
“Shami,” said Shami. He wasn’t impressed by film stars.
“Would you like to climb aboard as well?” asked VJ, leaning toward us.
Shami shook his head and stuck his thumb in his mouth. I pulled it out and kept hold of his hand as I knew he’d just stick it back in.
“So, shall we be off?” VJ gestured toward the gleaming car.
“Off where?” asked Parvati suspiciously.
“Bollywood, of course. We were told to expose Noor to new experiences, so what better place to start than the epicenter of this great city of ours?”
“He wants to show you where his dad works,” said Grace. “Don’t worry. If it’s boring we’ll do something else.”
“Of course,” agreed VJ grandly. “Your wishes are my command.”
“I cannot go,” I said. “I must look after my brother and sister.”
“Bring them along. Don’t tell me they wouldn’t like to see a real Bollywood soundstage.”
“I want to