When You Wish

“What's she doing now?” Stacy couldn't take her eyes off Aunt Neeta, crouching barefoot on the floor, surrounded by what looked like art supplies.

Rihanna and Stacy were fascinated as they watched their aunt, dressed in her favorite everyday sari, push furniture around their small living room, as if searching for just the right spot—for what, they could only imagine. Stacy bounced up and down with five-year-old excitement; she knew whatever Aunt Neeta had planned was sure to be fun. When their aunt finally invited them to join her on the floor, the sisters sat on opposite sides, forming a semicircle.

“Look at us!” Aunt Neeta said, clapping her hands with delight. “We're sitting in the shape of a crescent moon. Did you girls know all major Hindu gods and goddesses have a crescent moon on their heads?”

Rihanna tried to look interested. Ever since Aunt Neeta had moved in three months earlier, she had never missed a chance to bring up the Hindu gods with their confusing names and complicated backstories. It was kind of impressive how she could work them into any story. While there were many Hindu gods, Rihanna could only identify two: Shiva, the blue one, and Ganesh, who had an elephant head. It was hard to forget an elephant head. Rihanna didn't really mind her aunt's lessons, even if she couldn't follow them, but her father became annoyed whenever his sister started up. He was a nonpracticing Hindu, he would remind her, and not about to change, which explained why Rihanna was so clueless about religion. Her father had never once worked a Hindu god into the conversation.

Neeta's penchant for teaching Hinduism notwithstanding, Rihanna loved having her around—and why wouldn't she? Her aunt spoiled them rotten and lavished them with attention. She could cook too, if you liked Indian food, which Rihanna did. Living in a house with delicious aromas and exotic foods made Rihanna miss her mother's cooking. Even Stacy, the fussiest eater around, enjoyed her aunt's dishes, which was surprising since Indian food didn't look very appealing. Stacy's crunchy chicken nuggets and crispy fries had been replaced by mushy food with strange names like palak paneer and chole masala, yet she still asked for seconds.

Rihanna's stomach started rumbling right on cue but she resisted the urge to ask about dinner. Instead, she picked up a bright blue plastic bottle from the dozen on the floor.

“Is this sand, Aunt Neeta?”

“It's called rangoli powder. But yes, it's like colored sand.”

Stacy opened a Barbie-pink bottle and tipped some powder into her hand.

“Ooh, this one is my favorite! Can I keep it?”

Aunt Neeta nodded. “If there's any left when we're done, you can have it.”

Rihanna chose not to ask what rangoli was, for fear it would spark a Hindu god story, so she offered to help. Her aunt handed her a wide plastic hoop.