Dadaji (grandfather) comes visiting during summer holidays. And stays on till Diwali, which makes it half a year of fun. I’ll tell you why. First, he arrives with bundles of gifts. Stuff that no one ever brings me. Homemade laddoos bumpy from fingers that shaped them, sticks of sugarcane that smell of his fields, papads rolled out in his courtyard. I never know which is more fun, opening the bundles or wolfing the stuff down!...
