My reading is going well, now. My classes are hard work, but I am writing words and reading more all the time. I can understand many things in my books about ducks. I am also looking at books on growing vegetables, though mostly the pictures. Sometimes I get unhappy because my brain feels too stupid—but Numali never lets me stay upset. She tells me I am doing well. So does Mr. Gupta.
“I know something about growing vegetables, Nahji,” said my mother. “It’s not like we don’t have our own garden.”
“I know,” I told her, “but wouldn’t it be good if we grew enough for our own stall? Maybe set it up in Diburgarh?”
“We don’t even need to go that far, maybe. There are smaller towns between here and there who may welcome a new stall? I will talk to my friends at the plantation and ask what they think.”
“Could we sell our crops to the plantation, Mother?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “They have gardens of their own. It would have to be something special.”
So I am looking at exotic things in Diburgarh, to see what it is we might grow, Diary. Also, we might be able to sell mealworms in the market, too. But it hurts my head to have such big dreams.
Mutka still sits on her eggs. Soon we will have babies!