Free The Song of Kahunsha by Anosh Irani

steps of the burnt building. He wonders if Sumdi also uses a stone to clean himself.
    “So will you help us?” asks Guddi.
    Chamdi knows that if he tells her he will not steal, she will call him a coward again, so he keeps quiet.
    “We will steal puja money from the mandir. Are you listening?”
    “Yes,” says Chamdi. “The one around the corner?”
    “Hah, that one. Ahead of it there’s a doctor’s dispensary.”
    “Why is there money in that mandir? It’s so small.”
    “In two days they will do a puja for Lord Ganesha. There is a politician, Namdeo Girhe his name is. The story is that when his mother was carrying him, she was very poor. She had no place to stay. She used to sleep outside the door of the temple. People saw that she was going to have a child so they gave her money. She gave birth just outside the temple and the young priest in thetemple told her that because her child was a son of the temple, blessed by Ganesha, her son would one day be a big man. And it’s come true. So lots of people believe in this temple. Every year, on his birthday, Namdeo Girhe comes here to pray and places money near Ganesha’s feet to make him happy. The money is collected in a plastic box and the priest lets the money remain there until night to show everyone how much Namdeo Girhe cares about God, and what a magical temple it is. That way more and more people come to the temple all year round and the priest gets fat.”
    “I can’t steal God’s money.”
    “We are his children. He won’t mind.”
    “Why can’t you do it?”
    “I’m fatter than you.”
    “So?”
    “Look,” she says. “You know why I spoke to you? You’re as thin as a stick.”
    “So what?”
    “You’ll have to slip in through the bars of the temple window.”
    “What?”
    “Do you think the door is going to be open for you? We’ll put oil all over your body so that you can slip in through the bars of the window. If youget caught, no one will be able to hold on to you because you’ll be so slippery.”
    “Have you done this many times?”
    “Never.”
    “Then how do you know all this?”
    “My father … my father used to steal. He would talk with Amma and we would hear. It was his idea to rob the temple. But he died on the day of the puja only.”
    “I’m sorry,” says Chamdi. “I cannot steal.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s wrong.”
    “It’s wrong? What about my father dying? And what about Amma going mad and not having any milk in her body to feed her own child? That’s also wrong, no?”
    “Yes …”
    “Then it’s right to steal. We just want to get out of here. We are doing nothing wrong. If my brother could run, we would not be asking you.”
    Guddi looks into Chamdi’s eyes. A strange feeling wells up inside Chamdi, as though he has known her before. He tries to look away but he cannot. Guddi rubs her nose and the orange bangles she wears catch the morning sun. Everything seems perfect.
    Except that she is asking him to steal. Mrs. Sadiq always warned all the children:
Remember, once a thief, always a thief
. She used to wave her hand back and forth as she said this and Chamdi is shocked to see Mrs. Sadiq’s hand in front of him right now.
    But he quickly realizes that it is Amma’s hand and she is bringing something to her mouth. Guddi lets out a small “oh,” and she reaches out to prevent Amma from eating, because Amma has found a clump of her own hair on the ground and has mistaken it for food.
    Rather than look at Amma, Chamdi gazes up at the tree he slept under. It is as though this tree is afraid to reach far out into the sky, or perhaps its branches do not know the way to heaven. If only he could climb this tree, he might be able to catch a glimpse of the orphanage and talk to Jesus. He would ask if it is okay to steal to help someone.
    “What are you looking up for?” asks Sumdi. “Waiting for food to fall from the sky?”
    Chamdi smiles. It is strange being with this brother-sister. Even though