Lies

Mamma’s belly no more pops out like a flower pot. Daddy says she can do the horse rides from room to room again, carrying me on her back.

Sitting at the dining table I am colouring a painting when guests arrive, brining gifts wrapped in shiny papers. They hand me the presents kissing me on both cheeks. Matching suits, stockings, plastic toys for teething, napkin sets, bedding… I pile them all under the bed.

Mum sits on the garden bench talking to aunties. The Peepal tree is huge. I try to fit myself under the shadow of giant leaves. Ashutosh digs the soil near its roots to hide marbles. He throws the marble from out of the puddle, looks at me, and cries. Mamma comes running towards us.

Dad puts his ears to Mummy’s tummy. It kicks, he says, putting my hand on the bulge. “You will have a sister to play with Ashu,” Mamma says, smiling at me.

Geeta masi has come from London. Sitting on the bed, she chit-chats with mama while I stitch my handkerchief, tucked in a sewing ring. “Ah, he has such butter cheeks. Isn’t your brother beautiful, Ashana?” asks Geeta Masi. I stop my stitching and look up. Geeta masi plays with Ashu, cupping his chin with her thumb and forefinger. Mum looks at me fixedly, until my mouth cracks into a smile and whispers an approving yes.