As she leaned back in the seat, she and my mother continued chatting away. “Oh, Jamila! How I’ve missed this place! Isn’t this just wonderful, Leila?” my mother asked, turning toward me, her face beaming with pride.

I smiled as Ahmed glanced back at me.

“Ahmed, why don’t you go out and guide the cow,” Jamila aunty finally urged.

“Ammi. Can’t we just wait for the cow to move on its own?” he asked. But his mother simply raised her eyebrow, and Ahmed quickly got out and shut the door behind him. We waited for him. With the car turned off now, little beads of sweat had formed on all of our faces, but I seemed to be the only one bothered by the heat. Well, me and Sahil, who I noticed kept wiping his face with the handkerchief he carried in his back pocket.

“Ammi.” I nudged my mother, licking the sweat from my top lip. “Ammi, I’m dying.” I nudged her again.

“Oh, Leila, you are not dying.” My mother laughed, shaking her head. “These Americans have so little tolerance for discomfort,” she said to Jamila aunty. We had been in India for less than an hour and all of a sudden I was the American, the outsider. Since when was a hundred degrees slightly uncomfortable? I slouched back in my seat; the heat, the cows, my mother—the combination of it all was almost unbearable.

Sahil turned the car on for a moment to lower all the windows, and I placed my head against the seat, hoping that Ahmed would find a way to get the cow to the other side of the street soon. From behind shut eyes, I could hear little voices amid all the honking. I looked out the open window and saw three barefoot children running up to each car asking for change, but most of the passengers shooed them away. Their soiled faces and torn clothes gnawed at my curiosity. I had never seen children in such poor condition before—aside from the ones in the Save the Children commercials back home.

Suddenly, the little girl came running up to my window. I looked over at my mother, but she and Jamila aunty were so immersed in their conversation that they didn’t even take notice. I lifted my head from the seat and quickly opened my messenger bag. I finally pulled out some crumpled dollar bills and two Tootsie Rolls and placed them in the little girl’s palms. She smiled a crooked smile, kissed the top of my hand, and went running toward the other two kids, probably her siblings.

In that time, Ahmed finally returned and informed us that the cow had safely made it across. I breathed a sigh of relief as the engine roared to life and a gust of hot air blew from the vents above. While traffic continued to pick up pace slowly, I sat in the back seat staring at the top of my hand where the little girl had kissed it.