BY JULY, the monsoon had dunked the city soggy. Just outside our courtyard I would wait for the school bus to pick me up, usually dressed in a raincoat and plastic gum boots that came halfway up my calves. Some days the sky turned so dark, it was hard to tell what time it was.

When it rained thirty inches in three days, our classes were canceled. In the past I would have played carrom with Chiraj and Vivek, but now I studied more.

I’d never thought studying was important, because I didn’t know what good it did to read, count, and stuff my head with words, numbers, and formulas, when all I was going to do was get married, keep my in-laws happy, and worry about my daughter talking to a stranger.

Now that I was friends with Sarina, school seemed different. It was a place where I could excel, and if I did, there would be other places I could go—places I’d never thought of before.

Sarina raised her hand in all our classes, from science to Sanskrit. It encouraged me to participate in class, and the more I did, the easier it got.

At home, the first thing I did was finish my homework before watching TV or wasting time arguing with Chiraj. Mummy thought that I was hiding behind my books to avoid housework. When I showed her my test results she said, “I hope you didn’t cheat, did you?”

Her words were like a hot coal pressed against my heart. Even after they were gone I could feel the pain.

When I was seven years old, I’d had typhoid fever and missed so much school that I had to repeat the third grade. From then on, I had been one of the oldest students in my class. Every year, the new teacher looked at my past record and thought that I was too lazy or too stupid to pass the third grade. No one cared to know the real reason. Mummy knew it, yet she still said things that hurt me.

“No. Sarina helped me and I worked hard,” I said with forced calmness.

“All these years you must not have paid any attention in class. Look what you can do if you use your brain.”

“I know.” I walked away. At times like this I wished I had my own room, even a closet.

When Pappa saw my report card, he was very impressed. “We must start thinking about colleges for you,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, laying my head on his shoulder.