Seven year old Bindiya didn’t know how to write — especially to God. So, she bought a balloon, by selling her rag doll and two marbles she had found while picking polyethylene bags from trash cans.
She stuck a tiny piece of her mother’s old blouse to the balloon.
Her mother groaned from a tiny cot, at the back of the dark room.
Outside, Bindiya let the balloon go.
“Make Amma well!” she shouted, as she watched the balloon, until it was a tiny speck in the sky. Then, gone.
“Bindiya is that you?” Amma called.
She smiled, it was working already!