Free Tanya Tania by Antara Ganguli

notices things a bit too much. He’s too sensitive. I tell him this all the time when he’s sad after a fight with my mom. I tell him to chill and have a cigarette. It’s a joke because once he caught me smoking and instead of scolding me, he started laughing and then we both laughed and laughed and laughed and I fell over and that made us laugh even more and finally when we stopped laughing he didn’t say anything to me about smoking and instead we both promised not to tell my mother.
    Sometimes I have a fantasy about my mother not being there. Maybe going to visit Sammy for a long, long time. And it will be just my dad and me.
    Today I did something stupid at school but I don’t care. We have this thing where every week we go do stuff for the poor. It’s really boring and stupid because I always go to the Soup Kitchen with the rest of my gang because it is run by Laila’s mother. But there’s never anyone there at the Soup Kitchen at the time that we go because that’s a super busy time for beggars. Today—I don’t know what came over me—I went to St. John’s Church instead where they also give food but it’s to street kids. And the kids were actually there.
    I mean they were disgusting and dirty and super rude but at least they were there. It was super tiring because we had to serve them food and then give them these tiny bars of soap and make them go take showers and stuff.
    When I came back to school, everyone was giving me weird looks and Maya made a face as if I smelled. So I was like, how was Gossip at the Soup Kitchen today? But no one laughed.
    At that moment, I didn’t care. I just went and played tennis and beat everyone I was so mad.
    But now I’m home and I’m tired and I’ve eaten dinner and it’s 10 pm and no one has called me all evening. That’s like never happened.
    But why can’t I go to St. John’s? Why does everyone have to be together all the time? I mean is our group so fragile that if someone does something different then it’s all over?
    See this is why I feel like growing up is so dangerous. I never used to think this kind of stuff before. Now I feel like everything is stupid and everyone is stupid. This is the kind of thinking I don’t want to do. It’s dangerous.
    My dad once told me that growing up feels like shedding your skin and growing new skin. Well, I like my old skin a lot. It took a lot of hard work to grow it and I don’t want anything else. I’m scared I’m going to become a Communist like my parents used to be. They used to like sing songs on the streets and be against everyone. I don’t want to be like that. It’s hot and sweaty and you can’t look cute doing it.
    Besides if you’re against everything then who runs things? Where does the money come from?
    Do you sometimes feel like you’re shedding your skin? I think I’m going to pray tonight and ask God if I can keep mine. And maybe see if he can send my mom on a holiday.
    Love,
    Tania

    February 1, 1992
    Karachi
    Dear Tania,
    You won’t believe what just happened. Just as I was going to sit down to write to you, there was a huge crash in the kitchen. When I went to see what it was, I found Bibi pinned to the floor by a huge steel cupboard that had fallen down on her. Chhoti Bibi was standing there, arms folded across her chest, looking mutinous.
    I helped Bibi up and she cursed away in Punjabi involving all manners of animals in interesting combinations with Chhoti Bibi’s ancestors and my ancestors even though I had done nothing but try to help her.
    As soon as Bibi was free of the cupboard, she sprung up and slapped Chhoti Bibi hard across the face. Once, twice, thrice. Before I could move. Chhoti Bibi just stood there looking straight at Bibi. She didn’t try to defend herself and she didn’t try to stop Bibi. The slaps were hard and her cheek was already swelling up but there