"These boys… they said I was 'special.' I thought it meant 'cake.' But they didn't want to eat me."
"Laal, when I say 'biscuit,' you run. Don't look back."
"To a man who isn’t you."
"Boys called me 'mental.'"
"Run? My legs are made of iron, Ruby."
"To happiness?"
"Namaste, ji. Have this. It's sweet. Like my life. Mostly."
He leans back, eyes softening.
Laal doesn’t move. Balla’s eyes close.
Ruby sits beside Laal. He’s crying.
"I’m married, Laal."