At five I started getting ready to go to Sarina’s house. Mohini let me wear her navy-blue silk salwar-khameez, a long shirt and baggy pants with a georgette dupatta, a scarf. On the front of the khameez were beautiful embroidered peacocks and two tiny ones on the sleeves. The dupatta was cream colored, with navy peacocks embroidered on it as well. Mohini braided my hair and added a small, creamy white rose that contrasted with my dark braid and matched my dupatta. I rimmed my eyes with kohl. Mohini picked out a navy pear-shaped bindi with a gold outline and placed it in the middle of my forehead. She even put lipstick on me.

As soon as Mummy saw me wearing lipstick, she told me to wipe it off. I didn’t argue. The last thing I needed was for Mummy to get mad and stop me from going to the party.

The Princess Street area, where we lived, was always busy. All the taxis, cars, and buses kept honking their horns and only managed to creep along. I’d planned to take a bus, but when I got to the bus stop, the traffic was not moving at all. I had no idea what the problem was. Since Sarina’s house was less than two miles away, I decided to walk.

When I got to Marine Lines Station I saw a crowd. I was concerned that there may have been a bad accident, but then I saw that people were laughing, clapping, whistling, and shouting cheerfully. Mummy always warned us to stay away from crowds. I shoved and wiggled my way through as quickly as I could.

Once I crossed the bridge and got to the other side, the footpaths were wide and empty, and I walked fast. It was exactly six-thirty when I rang the doorbell at Sarina’s house. I had time to take one deep breath before Sarina opened the door and gave me a hug.

Mrs. Judge was sitting on a maroon-and-green-painted settee covered with a cushion the color of saffron-flavored milk. A couple was sitting across from her. Sarina introduced them as her uncle and aunt. Mrs. Judge motioned me to sit by her, and I was relieved.

“Pappa, Jeeta is here,” Sarina called.

“We’re here too,” said a man with the same copper-colored complexion as Sarina, and dark, deep-brown eyes. Ever since I’d found out that Sarina’s pappa was a judge, I had imagined an imposing man in a huge black robe with a stern look. He didn’t look like that at all. He was dressed in a white shirt with gray stripes, and gray trousers. He was not very tall, and definitely not very imposing.

Before I could get over the initial shock of meeting someone so different from the one I’d pictured, three boys walked in behind him, and the oldest of them was Neel.

Neel!