Naina believed mathematics had been invented to make children miss lunch.
Fractions were especially rude. Why cut one perfectly good number into pieces?
Her grandfather disagreed. He made jalebi at a sweet shop near the bus stand and claimed numbers were everywhere.
“Not in jalebi,” Naina said. “Jalebi is circles.”
“Exactly,” he replied, which was irritating.
On Saturday, the shop received an order for 120 jalebis. Grandfather filled the batter cloth and let Naina squeeze spirals into the hot oil.
Her first looked like a sleeping snake. Her second looked like a map of a country no one wanted to visit.
“Same pressure, same speed,” Grandfather said. “A pattern is a promise you make more than once.”
They packed twelve jalebis in each box. Naina counted ten boxes.
“If the customer wants half the order now?” Grandfather asked.
“Five boxes.”
“And one quarter?”
“Two and a half boxes.”
“You have cut a perfectly good number into pieces.”
Naina rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
Near closing time, a family entered with enough money for only half a kilogram. Grandfather weighed the jalebis, then added one small crooked spiral.
“Your scale is wrong,” Naina whispered.
“No. The scale measures weight. It does not measure welcome.”
That night, Naina finished her fraction worksheet at the shop counter. Beside each answer, Grandfather placed a tiny drop of sugar syrup.
For the first time, three quarters did not look like missing pieces. It looked like three full shares waiting to be enjoyed.