"Theater, my Star?" Baba asks. I listen carefully, but there's no disappointment in his tone, only surprise. "Yes, Baba," I say. "It's been an interest of mine. And I think I might be good at it. But Ma--" Baba takes my hand in both of his. "My grandmother used to organize natok in the village for the children--she loved to act. There's nothing wrong with telling a story onstage. It's beautiful work; it brings people together. Rabindranath Tagore wrote plays, didn't he? I'll handle your mother--don't worry about that."