It was the baby’s piercing cry that brought Smitha out of her house to the street, just in time to see the baby struggling with a piece of chapati, which a mongrel was trying to snatch from her tiny hands. Smitha darted across the street. With her heart pounding, she grabbed the baby with one hand and chased the dog away. A dirt and tear-streaked face looked up at her, still possessively holding onto the torn piece of chapati.
Smitha carried her back, pushed open the gate and placed her down on the porch. Delighted with her freedom to move, the baby toddled around. With the chapati still clasped in her hand, she was now more intent on exploring the porch. The gate creaked and Smitha looked up to see the ironwallah standing there.
“Next time you leave her alone, the dog will bite her and I will not be there to help,” Smitha almost yelled.
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