Page 182 - SB_G5.2_M6-10_Flip

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1 riya’s mother placed the pot of water on the stove, and Priya
poured in the sugar. One, two, three, four cups of the sugary
Pcrystals glinted under the stove light. Priya peered into the pot as

she stirred the sugar water. Soon it would be thick and syrupy.
2 “Mummy, what time is it back home . . .” Priya stopped and corrected
herself. “I mean . . . in India?”
3 Her mother rattled around in the cabinet for another small pot. “Here
it is seven at night, so in India it is six-thirty in the morning.”
4 Time for chai, Priya thought. She pictured Ama squatting in their little
kitchen, her orange-and-yellow sari draped around her shoulders and over
her head in the traditional way. She’d sing a silly song in Hindi about the
weather as she fixed the morning tea on the little electric stove: “Dum dum
diga diga, mosum biga biga . . .” Priya felt a sharp pang in her chest as her
grandmother’s voice flooded her mind. She didn’t want her mother to see
her tears, so she stared into the pot, stirring absently.
5 Mummy placed a stick of butter in the second pot and adjusted the
heat. Priya watched the waxy butter slowly turn to foamy liquid.

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