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9 Priya thought about her mother browsing the long supermarket aisles
with a clangy metal shopping cart, her dupatta swinging behind her in a
wave of color. Suddenly her throat felt tight again. Mummy wanted so
much for her to be happy here. “Do you want this for your lunch or this?”
she would ask, offering Priya packaged snacks in colorful, cartoon boxes
with big letters that shouted “New!” “Great Taste!” and “Quick and Easy!”
In India, Priya might have traded all the bangles in the world for a box
of the sweet, brightly colored treats. Now they just reminded her of the
kids at school, the ones who stared as she unpacked channa dal and
chapatis from her lunch bag in the cafeteria. For days she sat alone in
the lunchroom, hiding her food behind her paper sack so no one would
see that she didn’t have jelly and peanut butter or cartoon-shaped
fruit snacks.

10 Finally she had selected a jar of peanut butter at the supermarket and
described the sandwich for Mummy to make. It tasted sugary-sweet and
made her mouth feel stuck shut. But she ate it anyway, grateful that at
least no one stared or whispered.

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