“I need money Mumma.” Hama-Guri said, a little impatiently.
“I have heard that quite a few times since morning, dear. But you have not told me why.”
His mother knew that her child had his reasons. But she wanted to know what it was. In fact, she did not mind giving him a little pocket money when he helped her with some chore in the house. But this sudden demand of his for money that he wanted to take to school sounded a little fishy.
“I can’t tell you Mumma.” Hama replied, just before he put a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
She looked at him surprised. He had never said such a thing before. Why was he hiding? Rather, what was he hiding?