Fifteen Lanes - S.J. Laidlaw Page 0,67

so every career option was open to him. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if girls had the same opportunities?”

“Her mother could have been a maid, or a street-sweeper. There are other jobs for low-born women.”

“Yet you only have to look outside the gates of our school to see whole families living on the street. Work is not easy to come by. Don’t you listen to what our teachers tell us? Seventy percent of our population lives in slums, a quarter lives in absolute poverty. Would you really judge a mother harshly because she would do anything to provide for her children?”

“Perhaps you’re the one who will be our future prime minister, Gaj,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You can certainly argue like a politician.”

We all laughed—all but Sapna, who continued to glower at Gajra.

Gajra stared her down. “I want to live in an India that isn’t held back by the prejudices of caste and color. Don’t you, Sapna?”

Sapna looked from Gajra to the other girls. It was clear which one of them had won the day. She gave a grudging nod.

“All this talk of politics is making me bored,” said Kiran. She sighed dramatically. “Come on, Noor, haven’t you got a game for us?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.” I looked around at the faces that had become so dear to me over the past eight years. For the first time they were looking back at me, the real me. They waited eagerly as I decided what we should play.

The rest of the day was like my first day of school. I entered every class, each new cluster of schoolmates, frightened of rejection. I needn’t have worried. My friends cocooned me with their laughter, and most teachers went to great pains to congratulate me on my recent medals. There were a few who were awkward around me, but none mentioned the revelation of my origin. I collected Aamaal at the end of the day, confident we’d weathered the worst. She too had had an uneventful day and was full of stories of one of her friend’s rabbits. It had had babies over the break, and Aamaal pestered me all the way home to let her have one.

When we entered our street I managed to distract her by giving her a few rupees to buy some greens for Lucky the goat. While she was suitably distracted I went inside to pick up Shami. The house was just waking up, but Deepa-Auntie already had Shami bathed and fed and was playing catch with him in the lounge. I was pleased to see Shami chasing a tightly balled sari. He was having one of his good days. The labored breathing that had hung on for weeks was finally responding to a new antibiotic.

I no longer took Shami to doctors. It was easier, not to mention cheaper, just to ask advice from the other aunties and buy what they recommended. I was pretty certain Shami had tuberculosis, and I knew he had the virus. I was determined he’d be one of the lucky ones who survived. He just needed to hang on a few more years. As soon as I got my school-leaving certificate, I’d get a job so I could afford the medicine and look after him properly. Three more years was all I needed. I knew lots of people with the virus who’d hung on longer than that, my ma included.

Shami squealed with delight when he caught sight of me. “Noor-di, Noor-di!” He hurled himself into my arms. I caught him mid-flight and swung him up onto my hip. I had a flash of anxiety that at four he was still tiny enough that I could easily support him with one arm.

I gave Deepa-Auntie a questioning look. “He’s had a good day,” she confirmed. “He took only a short nap today, so you might get him to bed early.”

“Ma?” I asked.

“Still sleeping.”

I set Shami down. Ma was getting harder and harder to rouse these days. Even Prita-Auntie had tried to talk to her about her drinking, and everyone knew Prita-Auntie was one of the biggest drunks on the lane.

“I’ll be back in just a minute, Shami. You play with Deepa-Auntie.”

“I want to come. I want to see Ma.”

“She needs her tea first, Shami. You know she’ll be happy to see you once she’s had her tea.” I hoped this was true, but Ma’s moods had become as uncontrolled as her drinking. Even Aamaal, her clear favorite, could never be sure