Rukshana's aunts hand her an endless stream of chores and chai. After the peas are done, she soaks coriander and mint from the garden in bowls of water from the tank where she learned how to swim. Peels the skin off of gourds from the gardens where she used to chase rabbits and build stick forts. Strips curry leaves from the wooden stems she and her cousins used to use as swords. The leaves fall into the metal colander with a hollow rattle. When she washes the dishes from the meals that she helped prepare, she studies the callouses on her fingers, wondering if they're the same consistency as the ones she got climbing trees and fighting kites.
A story about friendship and loyalty amongst neighbours in a slum, particularly amongst the girls and women who get their homes a reprieve from imminent demolition by keeping their wits about them. Love, as the author points out, is not about running away to save your own skin but staying together to survive. And, as the girls learn, being a girl is hard but being a woman is harder.