Today, I collected some pearls. Soft, velvety, gleaming white little pearls. I watched them spill on to my palm and run off my fingertips. A sob and a catch… “Are you crying?” “Yes I am. Didn’t you call because you knew I would?” Did I? My mind went back to an evening in Hyderabad, 15 years ago. My cousin had been struggling with a bad cold and homework. She was so cranky that she had picked up a pointless fight with her mother. My aunt had gently sent her to bed. I watched another warm pearl land on my palm. My cousin was 12 years old at that time. What do I do with you? Perhaps a warm glass of milk and a cozy tuck in to bed are what you also need tonight. Where is your mother? I carefully picked up all the pearls from the ground and put them in the glass jar I kept. My jar of little treasures was fast getting full. Oh look at that pink Ruby there. “Please, please don’t call anybody! I’ll handle it! Please don’t call! Then everything will get into a tizzy! I’ll do anything—I’ll get na