Sheila was sweating. It was 38 degrees celsius. No, she was not aware that it was 38 degrees celsius. She just knew it was a very hot day. She stared at all the twenty books lying next to her on the floor-mat. She looked at them fondly. She could barely read English. However, she could read all the titles of the books. She had mugged them up. Her ‘book-uncle’ had made her mug them up. He was a nice man, she thought. It was because of him that she had started going to school once again. Sheila wondered if this book-uncle and her mother were more than just friends. Maybe they were. She wasn’t sure. He could even be her father. That’s what her friend had said to her once when they were in school. She had stopped going to school now because of the pandemic. She could not wait to go back. The mid-day meals in school were much better than what her mother cooked, which was most of the time very insipid. 

“Don’t you dare open any of the books!” her mother yelled at her from the other end of the shack, as if she could read her mind.

“I am not!” Sheila yelled back without looking at her.

“Dare you use that tone with me,” the mother yelled again.

Sheila kept quiet. She knew her mother was under intoxication for most of the day. Sheila tried snuffing the powder once when her mother was away, begging on the very road where their shack was. 

“What are you doing?” Suddenly she heard someone say then.

She turned around. It was the same book-uncle. He looked at her in shock.

“Give me that,” he said, pointing at her mother's miniature plastic bottle that contained the white snuff powder.

Sheila quietly handed it over to him.

“Now, go do your homework,” he said before leaving the shack. He had come to keep some books inside when he had caught her.

“But mummy uses this,” she said just as she saw him leave the door.

The book-uncle turned around. Maybe he is my father, Sheila thought. By the way he looked at her, she could tell that this is how most fathers scolded their children, lovingly yet firmly.

“Sheila, we will make your mummy stop using this, ok? It is bad. You are thirteen, you should know this is bad!” he said.

She nodded her head. He then left the room.

Sheila shook herself out of the past. Since then she didn't try inhaling the powder again. She knew it was bad, very bad. She didn’t want to end up being like her mother!

She then just stacked the books, kept them in a corner and went up to her mother, who was giggling away looking at her phone.

“Can I borrow the phone, mummy?” Sheila asked.

“Can you not see I am using it,” the mother replied, without looking away from the screen.

“Yes, but you told me an hour ago that I could take it from you after one hour. It is 1 pm now.”

“1 pm! Are you trying to teach me how to count hours now,” the mother said angrily, this time looking at Sheila.

Is she even my real mother? Sheila wondered at times.

“I have to study. Our teacher shared a link on Whatsapp,” she said. 

“All this mambo-jambo about studies! You think you will become some doctor, some scientist one day, huh?” her mother snorted.

Who knows! Sheila wanted to say but she knew it would turn into a futile argument.  

Her mother handed her the phone nevertheless. Sheila knew it was more out of fear of the book-uncle than of her own will. After all, he had purchased the phone only during the lockdown so that Sheila could attend her online classes and do her homework. At least the phone was at home, Sheila said to herself, thanking her stars. The other day when she was on the road, selling books to the vehicle drivers and riders that stopped by the traffic signal, she met Aashi, the same school friend who had told her that her book-uncle could be her father. She sold phone chargers and other cables.

“Are you able to attend the online classes? Aashi asked, wiping the sweat off her forehead with her shirt’s sleeve.

“Yes, thankfully mother gives me the phone every morning and whenever I plead,” Sheila said in a remorseful tone.

“Your uncle, that book-uncle, he bought it for you, no?” Aashi asked.

“Well, yes, but what do I say about my mother?” Sheila said with a sigh.

“Anyway, your dad has a phone, right? You must be using his to do your homework,” Sheila continued.

“Naah, not every day, he has got this contract work in some faraway place and he gets home like pretty late, and some days he leaves early too!”

“Hmm...you can come over to my place on those days,” Sheila had then said with a smile.

Sheila then quickly finished her homework, picked up some ten books and went out on the road. To sell the books. Hopefully she would make some money today. It was 3 pm with the searing heat of the sun right above her. 

She saw Aashi and smiled at her. She walked up to her. They chatted for a minute till the traffic light turned from amber to red. They became alert. There were barely any vehicles on the road these days. The lockdown had brought the world to a standstill. Four cars and two motorbikes stopped. Sheila and Aashi ran towards them. As a policy, they stopped by different vehicles, lest they confused or irritated the vehicle owners.

Sheila stopped by a big black car. The windows were closed. The driver, a lady with a mask hanging around her one ear, gave her a side glance. She then picked up her phone and started checking it. Sheila continued standing there. She had stopped getting embarrassed now. The lady looked up and then looked at Sheila, nodding her head from left to right, which meant a clear 'no`'. Sheila continued flipping one book to another, showing them to her who seemed disinterested. Sheila knew that there were just 30 more seconds remaining for the traffic signal to turn green. She quickly moved to the next vehicle, another car, but a smaller one and not as shiny as the black one. There were two men inside, laughing at a joke perhaps. 

“Today is not a good day,” Sheila said to herself. The traffic light changed to green and the vehicles moved past her. Aashi returned to her.

“Any luck?” she asked.

“Naah, I don’t think many people read books these days. Think they watch videos on their phones like my mother does!” Sheila sighed as she said this.

“How about you?” she asked Aashi.

Aashi showed her a green note with a twinkle in her eyes. “I managed to sell one data cable,” she said.

"You should tell your book-uncle to get you some chargers for next time. They sell every time,” Aashi continued.

“Yes, you are right! And we can then keep these books all to ourselves and read when we are grown ups!” Sheila said as she gave out a hearty laugh. Aashi laughed too.

They then chatted again, waiting for the traffic light to turn red again as they wiped off their sweaty foreheads.