Hindi

A December morning in the Sharmas' kitchen: Noah tells Mummy ji and Papa ji he is staying till Holi, the recipes need time, the work in Portland can wait till April, and he needs an Indian number.

A phone shop in Lajpat Nagar market: Noah asks the clerk for a SIM card, hands over his passport and a photo, Rohan gives his house as the address, Noah takes the cheapest plan and hears his new number digit by digit.

The first call on the new number, from the metro: Noah tells Mummy ji where he is and that he's coming, she asks what he's bringing, he asks what she's making, and she tells him to come carefully.

Breakfast in the kitchen: Mummy ji asks Noah at what time he gets up, runs, goes to the shop and has lunch, and Priya's shift is at nine and she's late already.

The roof floor in the evening: Rohan and Noah plan the week, the shop Monday to Saturday and closed on Sunday, Dadi ji's lunch on Sunday, Priya's day off on Thursday, and a film that Thursday.

The sweet shop in Chandni Chowk on a winter morning: a customer wants carrot halwa and the milk fudge, Papa ji gives the prices, Noah weighs half a kilo and says it was made this morning by his own hand.

The shop's kitchen in Chandni Chowk: Rohan at the big pan lets Noah stir and taste, Papa ji looks in to ask whether the halwa is ready, and Noah asks whether he can make it himself tomorrow.

The roof floor at seven on the first cold morning: Mummy ji brings chai up the stairs, it's Delhi's winter and there's fog, Noah is cold, there'll be hot water in ten minutes, and he has no sweater.

A stall in Lajpat Nagar Central Market on a Sunday: Noah asks for a sweater, blue, Priya picks the warm one, the price comes down from eight hundred to seven, and a red shawl for Dadi ji goes with it.

The living room with the weather on television: dense fog and seven degrees, yesterday it was eight and there was fog too, Raju bhaiya's auto is late because nothing showed, and the metro is twenty minutes today.

At the family table Dadi ji says she's going to her village for the mustard season, Papa ji plans Saturday for everyone, and Noah is invited along: with me, with you, with all of us.

Papa ji's car on the highway to Dadi ji's village: how long it takes, two hours or three in fog, how far it still is, and a dhaba stop for chai and parathas that come in five minutes.

The village house near Mathura: Dadi ji has been there a week, her neighbour the farmer comes in and asks who Noah is and since when he's in India; sixty years in one place, and come tomorrow to the fields.

The morning after a cold night in the village house: did you sleep, I slept but it was very cold, three quilts, who got up when, the rooster, and hot milk with turmeric from Mummy ji.

A December morning in the farmer's mustard fields near Dadi ji's village: we came at seven, we got up at five, everyone gets up at five here, yellow mustard and sugar cane to taste, and Papa ji's father who came here too.

Evening in Dadi ji's courtyard: Rohan phones from the shop after a day with no network; where were you, in the fields with Papa ji, all day, Dadi ji was at home, it was cold but there was sun, and Dadi ji wants the phone.

At the clay stove of the village kitchen, Noah writes down the milk sweet of Mathura: how much milk, how much sugar, how many sweets it makes, a pinch of cardamom, and Mummy ji's remark that Dadi ji writes nothing down.

Fog on the highway back to Delhi, a bag of Mathura sweets on the seat: how did you like the village, I liked it very much, the cold I didn't like, the sweets I liked most, and three hours today instead of two.

Noah's room on the roof floor, back from the village with a cold: Priya the doctor asks what happened, his throat and head hurt, a little fever, rest, Mummy ji's ginger water, and one syrup from the corner shop.

The pharmacy at the corner of Lajpat Nagar market: this syrup please, for a cough and a fever, two spoons twice a day after food, morning and night, for three days, and a tablet every six hours.

Priya shows Noah her favourite place in Delhi, the old tombs of Lodhi Garden, and a passer-by asks for a photo: older than, the most beautiful, better than me, not yet.

At the tea stall by Lodhi Garden's gate, Noah and Priya plan the next Sunday and the Thursday after: what will you do, I'll come again, I'll be at the hospital, I'll bring the camera, I'll pay.

On the shop's roof in Chandni Chowk, in the first February sun, Rohan tells Noah what is coming: in March it'll be warm, in April forty degrees, in July the monsoon, and Noah decides to stay till July.

A Sunday in front of the television with Papa ji, and Raju bhaiya drops in: who will win, India will win of course, our boy from Delhi, he'll make a hundred, they'll win by evening, and Noah will play with the lane.

Noah has phoned home and Mummy ji and Papa ji ask after his parents: how is your mother, she's fine, she says namaste, he asks about the shop, will they come to Delhi, then they'll stay with us.

Two days before Holi, Noah buys colours and water pistols at Gupta ji's corner store: ready for Holi, pink and green for the whole lane, two for the children, one for me too, happy Holi in advance.

The night before Holi, Mummy ji and Dadi ji make the sweet pastries with Noah: first the dough, then the filling, fold it like this, after that fry, at the end the syrup, two hundred for the whole lane.

Holi morning in the lane: Rohan with a fistful of pink, Priya with green, Raju bhaiya, and Aunty ji with sweet pastries: happy Holi, don't put colour on me, don't run, don't be scared, don't eat too many.

Holi afternoon in Gupta ji's courtyard, lassi and sweet pastries, everyone pink: you've gone completely pink, I'm soaked, I'm tired out, it was fun, the colour comes off in two days, the pastries are finished.

The family table, the evening after Holi: Rohan says Chef Khanna's hotel kitchen in Connaught Place needs a cook for a year, Papa ji says the house is his, Priya names the flats in Hauz Khas, and Noah says yes: we'll eat together every Sunday, we'll cook together.