It was ‘Show and Tell’ day for class three students. A constant murmur of excited restlessness ran through the class. “Shhhh, calm down everyone.” Mrs. Nair the class teacher shushed the students for the hundredth time.

It was Selva’s turn next. He heaved as he lifted his volcano model and carried it to the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Nair sighed, seeing yet another volcano model. Selva smiled at her nervously and she nodded for him to proceed.

Selva turned to the class and smiled. He pointed to his crudely made flour volcano that had hastily been painted in shades of black and brown. “ Volcano,” he told his classmates, poking the still wet flour. He opened a small packet of bicarbonate powder and poured it into the mouth of the volcano. There was a moment in which the class held its breath. Then with a lazy bubbling, the volcano bubbled and gurgled, dripping colored foam down the wet sides. Selva smiled in relief and simply said, “Volcano”. There was some enthusiastic applause. The bicarbonate was too old Mrs. Nair thought, it didn’t bubble enough. Having seen hundreds of model volcanos, she was an expert in the matter.

“Um…Good job Selva.” Mrs. Nair said noting a ‘C’ against his name.

“ Ok, next is Nancy.”

“It’s Nancheli, mam” Nancheli said as she stood up in excitement. She pulled the large briefcase from under her seat and carried it carefully to the teacher’s desk. She beamed at Mrs. Nair and her classmates.

“Today for show and tell I have got a few family heirlooms to show you.” She said proudly, pushing back her ponytails.

She opened the suitcase and pulled out a small earthen pot.

She held it up for her classmates to see. Her eyes gleamed as she waited for her classmates to recognize it.

“So, you just got a pot?” One of her classmates said.

“No, it’s a spittoon,” Nancheli said.

“Um…what?” Another of the classmates asked.

Mrs. Nair raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a spitoon. My great-grandfather had to wear it around his neck all the time.” Nancheli smiled.

“Did he eat a lot of paan? My grandmother used to too and she would spit all around the house and my mother would get mad. This spittoon would have been a good idea for her.” Another of her classmates said.

“It wasn’t because he ate paan, you Dumbo, it was because he was untouchable. See he would wear it like this.” Nancheli wore the pot around her neck. It was too large for her small head and it made her bend forward. She tried to spit into it and only partly succeeded. Read more