Her beads clicked rhythmically—each one the size of a pea but as clear and luminous as a sparkling water drop. If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think my OCD was a very rich old lady. “Where did you get your beads?” I asked. “Makah Sharif,” OCD replied. “Holy Mecca. Al humdu lillah, very,...
I helped chop up the onion and the fresh coriander for the egg curry. Little Bibi was waiting for her breakfast. “No money for food, but plenty to spend on kites!” Amma grumbled. “Bala collected a pile of coins at the end of the match,” I told her. “How so?” Amma’s fingers were now coaxing Little...