As she was about to turn away, Inaya’s eye was drawn to where England was on the world map. She traced her finger from Pakistan to the United Kingdom. In her head, she could already hear the throb of a stadium—the resounding thud of bat against ball and the thunderous applause.

The promise of possibility sent a delicious shiver down Inaya’s spine.

Recess

New Delhi, India

As soon as the school bell rang signalling recess, Jai shot out of the classroom and headed for the canteen before the bread pakoras ran out. He could already taste the spicy potatoes in the chickpea batter-coated bread, fried to golden perfection. His mouth watered and his pace quickened, but as he turned the corner of the hallway, four boys blocked his path.

‘What’s the rush, Jai?’ drawled the leader of the pack, a thin, pallid youth called Ansh.

‘It’s time for tiffin, yaar. Check out that look on his face. It has bread pakora written all over it,’ smirked Bhavin.

‘Hey, can you get me a bread pakora too?’ asked Chirag, thrusting his face so close that Jai could smell the fetid odour of his breath.

The fourth boy, Dev, jabbed Jai’s stomach with his finger. ‘There’s no room here, man,’ he said. ‘I suggest we take some stuff out, before he puts more stuff in. What do you say, guys?’

Dev looked around at his cronies.

Ansh smirked. ‘Go for it, Dev,’ he said.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Dev punched Jai hard in the stomach. Jai collapsed to the ground, whimpering in agony, too scared to shout or defend himself.

‘Tsk! Big fail, once again. And since we couldn’t make space for more bread pakoras in there, this will be of no use to you,’ said Dev, as he bent down and extracted a fifty-rupee note from Jai’s clenched fist. ‘Better luck next time, fatso.’

The boys walked off, sniggering. As Jai lay doubled up on the floor of the corridor, he heard the sound of footsteps. He struggled to get to his feet before anyone else saw his humiliation. Just then someone rushed towards him. Jai instinctively flinched, fearing that Ansh and gang had returned for round two as they often did. He put up his arm to shield himself from their further blows.

Someone gently took his arm and supported him to the wall, so he could lean against it. Jai looked up to see his friend, Rustom.

‘Was it them again, Jai?’

Jai’s silence told Rustom that it was. ‘They can’t keep getting away with this, you know. I’ll come with you to tell Lobo sir, if you like?’

Jai shook his head.

‘Remember Harshad Kotecha from eighth grade? There’s a rumour that he’s leaving school because of them, but not before he tells Lobo everything. If you also tell Lobo, then maybe . . . ’

‘Listen, can I borrow some money from you, Rusty?’ Jai interrupted. ‘The bread pakoras will run out if we don’t go soon.’