“What Dat Mum?” At lunch: “What’s that Leila?” I repeat. “It’s a mushroom.” Outside our apartment, near the elevators: “That? It’s a tiny, scrunched up piece of paper that we can throw in the dustbin Rahul.” After a bath: “That’s a hairbrush. But those? I don’t know Leila, umm…they’re a part of the hair brush … Continue reading What Dat Mum?