“Let your powers shine …” Agalya tossed her hair over her shoulder as she sang. She jumped on to the bed and spreading her arms wide, she continued, “ … make the clock reverse, bring back what was once …”

“Agalya, ennadi pannre?”

She stopped mid-twirl and collapsed in an ungainly heap on the bed.

Her grandmother entered the room and stared at her with an expression that was in between confusion and irritation.

“N … nothing, Paati,” Agalya said, hoping that her grandmother had not spotted her prancing around.

“Why are you lounging on the bed like that?” Paati narrowed her eyes.

Agalya jumped down from the bed. Having to share a room with her grandmother was tough. Paati was very particular about everything, and she was always finding fault with everyone.

Agalya’s eyes fell on the clock. Oh no! She was going to be late for school! She ran to the mirror and began combing her hair, which she had left loose and fl owing down her back in a bid to channel her inner Rapunzel.

Paati followed. “Shall I plait your hair?” she offered.

“NO!” said Agalya and began brushing out the knots.

Paati loved to pour copious amounts of coconut oil on her granddaughter’s head and massage it in before plaiting her hair. While Agalya enjoyed those massages on the weekends, she did not want to go to school with oil dripping down her face. She could just imagine Rishabh calling her bonda and mimicking wiping off the excess oil.

Agalya fi nished tying her ribbons and tossed the brush on the table.

“Look at this brush, Agalya! So much hair fall!” Paati tsk-tsked as she began cleaning the brush. ‘You need to take better care. At this rate, you will have no hair left.”

She waved the clump of hair strands she had collected in the air.

“Paati, stop it! Anyway, I have too much hair. Maybe the hair fall will help me lose some weight … on my head,” Agalya shrugged.

“You need an oil massage. Let me make my special blend, and I will give you a massage right now.”

“I have to go. Bye, Paati!”

Agalya ran past her grandmother, who began muttering about how children these days wouldn’t listen to their elders.

As she rushed past the dining table, she picked up the permission slip Ms Asma had handed out. She checked to ensure both her parents had signed it. She had to give it to Ms Asma today. Then, she ran out the door and got into the school van.

Phew! She’d settled everything. She’d convinced Paati to pick her up after school for the next few weeks, beginning with the audition on Monday. She couldn’t take the van back home if she had to audition next week and hopefully attend rehearsals for a few weeks after that. Now, the only thing left was to get the script so she could practice and be ready for the auditions.

That was the fi rst question Agalya asked Ms Asma when she walked in. “Ma’am, ma’am, when will we get the dialogues?”

“Patience,” Ms Asma said, gesturing to the stack of papers in her arms. “I will distribute these at the end of class. But first, does everyone have their permission slips? If you don’t …”

Before she could finish her sentence, several students ran up to the front of the classroom, waving their permission slips in the air.

Agalya fished out her slip and joined the throng.

“Ma’am, I want to be Mother Gothel,” yelled Arnav.

“She’s Mother Gothel, not Father Gothel, you dumbo! You can be the farmer,” Varun said.

“A boy can be Mother Gothel if he’s good at it,” said Ms Asma. “You can audition for any part that you choose. And if you are the best at it, the part will be yours.”

“Ma’am, ma’am! Farmer, ma’am!” shouted Saransh, raising his hand as high as he could.

“I want to be the prince. But only if I don’t have to kiss anyone. EWWWW!” Rishabh said, making gagging noises.

“Can I be the horse?” asked someone.

“I want to be Rapunzel,” Sia shouted.

“Me, too!”

“I’m glad to see so much interest and enthusiasm. We also need a narrator, though. Any volunteers?” Ms Asma said. Some hands went up.

“Ma’am! I want to play Rapunzel, Ma’am,” yelled Prisha. She looked at Agalya as though she could convince her to change her mind just by saying it first.

“Rapunzel,” said Agalya. She wasn’t going to change her mind. She placed her permission slip on the table and began walking back to her seat.

Excerpted with permission from Agalya in the Spotlight, Divya Anand, illustrated by Indrani Ghosh, Puffin.