Saloni Virkar by au-designcenter

The Adventures of

Tootsie Lama

The Adventures of

Tootsie Lama

The Adventures of Tootsie Lama Stuti Agarwal

Illustrated by

Saloni Virkar

The Adventures of Tootsie Lama Stuti Agarwal

Illustrated by

Saloni Virkar

Contents Chapter 1 ............................

Chapter 2 ...........................

Chapter 3 ...........................

Chapter 4 ...........................

Chapter 5 ...........................

ISBN 978386228611

Chapter 6 ...........................

Typeset in Adobe Indesign by R. Ajith Kumar, Delhi

Chapter 7 ...........................

Chapter 8 ...........................

10987654321

Printed at Manipal Technologies Ltd

Contents Chapter 1 ............................

Chapter 2 ...........................

Chapter 3 ...........................

Chapter 4 ...........................

Chapter 5 ...........................

ISBN 978386228611

Chapter 6 ...........................

Typeset in Adobe Indesign by R. Ajith Kumar, Delhi

Chapter 7 ...........................

Chapter 8 ...........................

10987654321

Printed at Manipal Technologies Ltd

For Venky, who gave me Tootsie

Chapter 1

For Venky, who gave me Tootsie

Chapter 1

In many ways Tootsie Lama was like any average eight-year-old girl in the small hilly town of Darjeeling. She loved her sunny days, rolling down, swimming in the pond, climbing rocks and the occasional, rather brave, swinging from the branches of young pine trees. She equally liked the not- sosunny days â&#x20AC;&#x201C; where she danced in the rain, made mud tunnels, or when she stayed in to beat the cold, read under her blanket-tent and draw to her heartâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s content.

In all other ways, Tootsie’s life had not turned out like any child her age would have imagined. She didn’t recall much of her early years. She didn’t remember having any parents, siblings, aunts or uncles – only a passing memory of foggy days and feeling shivering cold as she squatted beside other soot-covered kids from the streets, rummaging for food in the bins. Her first vivid memory was of a kind couple picking her up from under a railway bridge and taking her home.

“There is plenty more; have as much as you like.”

There, inside the small red-brick house, by the burning fireplace, she had her first full warm meal – thukpa, a big bowl of meaty noodle soup, which smelt as heavenly as the kitchen of the tiny restaurant Tootsie often peeked into and was hurriedly chased out of. She began gobbling it up, for fear that the bowl would be snatched away, when the cheerful lady with the loving

brown eyes and soft face placed a gentle hand on her back. ‘There is plenty more; have as much as you like.’ Tootsie believed it was a full stomach that revived her mind. A few meals and many hot baths later, Tootsie fell in love with the couple. She stayed with them, the two she now called Aama and Baba, in their home on a hilltop, and life started to look up.

“There is plenty more; have as much as you like.”

Every morning the petite girl, her fringe set just right between her ponytails, her face flushed a blush pink, her frock pleated perfectly, finished with a pair of clean white socks and sparkling shoes, would help Baba with the daily chores.

And every day, dressed in his brown corduroy pants, red checked shirt, sleeveless plaid jacket, his tools hanging below his bulging waist, a cap pulled jauntily over his balding head and a crooked, wide smile always in place on his wrinkly face, Baba looked as purposeful as the commander of an army of ants at the onset of a raid.

The two worked around the vegetable garden – sowing, weeding, cutting and watering; and in the animal barn (the little they had of it – two dogs, five hens, two cocks and a cow) – feeding, cleaning and grooming. Tootsie would then attend to Aama, who was well into her day of housework. Perhaps it was all the hours of arduous work that kept Aama as thin as she was. Not an extra inch showed in her long cotton dresses, layered with a dirty white apron. Her rough hands were the only bit of her that showed any sign of the years of work around the house.

Tootsie would help Aama, dusting and cooking, before she sat down to do her lessons for the day. After lunch she was free to go out and play – the dogs, Kalu and Sheru, often by her side.

happy Sofie Villa, with its big windows and smoke-12 chimney, was always full of chitter-chatter and loud laughs that rang far down the hillock. But alas, the merriment ceased when a landslide wreaked devastation in the town market where the couple sold their weekly produce, and many a soul was lost, including Tootsie’s Aama–Baba.

Soon all the neighbours, daajus, didis and children alike recognized and loved the cheerful little Tootsie Lama – named so by the couple, who, having given up trying to understand her name, had given it their own spin. The three had lots of fun in and around the house, and things could not be merrier. From the cock-a-doodling in the morning to the old wolf’s screechy howls at night, the

Five years had passed, and the couple had not returned. But Tootsie would still be heard telling everyone, , ‘They probably slid all the way down, lost their way and are now climbing back up all the way from Mt Everest.’ She had not given up hope. She went about her chores around the house and in the farm with equal rigour, and studied with equal, if not more, passion. Not having anyone push you to finish a chapter, or practise a certain maths problem, makes you enjoy studying a lot more. She even started going to the

weekly market to sell vegetables, milk & eggs from the farm, just like Aama–Baba used to. With no elder around, she had no one to tell her what to do and point out the things she shouldn’t do. She could eat chocolate and crisps for all meals, jump into endless puddles, not bathe for days and complete her lessons and other tasks as and when she liked, anything she felt like! The freedom made her enjoy her daily chores a lot more. And while she made sure she did all the important work, free will was a privilege and Tootsie encashed it.

The neighbours had often called nuns and monks from the town to take Tootsie to their care homes, but Tootsie always came running back in a day, and soon everyone gave up. ‘I can very well take care of myself, thank you,’ she’d say vehemently. ‘And I must look after the farm and the house until Aama–Baba come back.’ Some kind neighbours now dropped by with food, clothes and other goodies instead.

cared for anyone except her dear friend Tenzing, who lived on the adjoining peak. People in the town would often look at her funny, shake their heads in despair and comment, ‘Poor girl. An empty mind is the devil’s workshop,’ but Tootsie never understood what they meant and happily went about her days.

Tootsie accepted everything politely, and even gave them some fresh vegetables and eggs in return, but she never really

trees, the yellow light from the houses and lamp posts shining like fairy lights in the grey blanket of fog that lay over the usually sunny town. All Tootsie longed for in such times was Aamaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s thukpa.

Chapter 2 The day our story begins was a gloomy one. Monsoons felt like a long time in Darjeeling. The thundering rains never stopped, and you could only see blurry

She had tried replicating the dish, having seen Aama make it many times, but had always failed to get it just right. How she missed the clear golden broth, buttery noodles, topped with spicy chicken and a side of tingmo bread to dip in! Today she didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even have noodles to make a feeble attempt at it.

Chapter 2 The day our story begins was a gloomy one. Monsoons felt like a long time in Darjeeling. The thundering rains never stopped, and you could only see blurry

She decided she must get some from the market.‘But no

up another – to his house, and into

one is going to give it to you for

the backyard. The task that would

free,’ she reprimanded herself.

ordinarily leave the best climbers

The old couple hadn’t left her

panting, given the swampy slopes,

much, and she hadn’t been

was a breeze for Tootsie.

So off she ran – down a hill and

able to sell her produce of late due to the bad weather. She

‘Meow,’ she whimpered. No response.

needed a new plan. And she

‘Meow, meow,’she called, and still no

came up with it quickly, too.

answer. Restless, she crawled to the front garden and screamed, ‘Meoww!

Tootsie was always full of

tugging at the clothesline so hard that

ideas, and every time one

it came off from one end and she went

struck her, her face flushed

rocketing into the kitchen window,

scarlet red, with her toothy

carrying with her all the clothes, a

grin touching her ears and a

long strip of uprooted grass and wet,

fringe on her forehead danced just a little. For this one, she’d need Tenzing’s help.

sludgy mud.

She decided she must get some from the market.‘But no

up another – to his house, and into

one is going to give it to you for

the backyard. The task that would

free,’ she reprimanded herself.

ordinarily leave the best climbers

The old couple hadn’t left her

panting, given the swampy slopes,

much, and she hadn’t been

was a breeze for Tootsie.

So off she ran – down a hill and

able to sell her produce of late due to the bad weather. She

‘Meow,’ she whimpered. No response.

needed a new plan. And she

‘Meow, meow,’she called, and still no

came up with it quickly, too.

answer. Restless, she crawled to the front garden and screamed, ‘Meoww!

Tootsie was always full of

tugging at the clothesline so hard that

ideas, and every time one

it came off from one end and she went

struck her, her face flushed

rocketing into the kitchen window,

scarlet red, with her toothy

carrying with her all the clothes, a

grin touching her ears and a

long strip of uprooted grass and wet,

fringe on her forehead danced just a little. For this one, she’d need Tenzing’s help.

sludgy mud.

What a ruckus that was! And surely both Tenzing and his mother heard.‘The neighbour’s cat is at it again. Go shoo her away, will you,’ ordered Mrs Sherpa, her long eyebrows stretching up like the Kanchenjunga range. Mrs Sherpa was a teacher at the school where Tenzing studied. There are two kinds of teachers – the ones you love and the ones you dare not cross paths with. She was the latter. Her bright face, bouncy curls and flowery dresses could be deceiving for the newcomers, but the rest of the school knew her flitting mood swings were best to be avoided.

‘And while you’re at it, go fetch some spinach for dinner from Tootsie’s garden. Take some fruits in return; the little girl could do with some nutrition.’ So off dashed Tenzing. Pulling his cap rakishly over his unruly curly hair, he flew, eager to find out what new plan his meowing friend had hatched. Tenzing, like Tootsie, was shorter than all kids his age. His skin was freckled from all the time he spent out in the sun, and you could easily count all the bones in his body – a sharp contrast to his rather large mother.

Often mocked for his stick-like figure, and wimpy personality, Tenzing had never had friends. Tootsie was his first one, and the fun they had! He had only read of adventures until he met Tootsie; and having gone on none but imaginary ones, he was always excited to embark on anything she proposed. Together, they had built their own tree house, emptied the orange tree at the superintendent’s house, freed many a cat and dog from its cage and avenged numerous bullies. Time with Tootsie was always a lot of fun, although it often steered them into trouble.

Chapter 3

‘Psst,’ whispered Tootsie, signalling Tenzing to their hideaway.In the corner of the garden, the long arms of the old oak tree fell all the way to the ground, forming a perfect canopy-cave. The floor was made sturdy with thick roots that stretched out into a net, and the walls and roof were constructed with branches. Their little home was lit up with natural green light, and smelt sweet of damp wood and dew-covered leaves. A signboard on the trunk read ‘Raziel’, named after the angelic keeper of secrets in Tenzing’s favourite book.From

in between the long, leafy arms of the tree popped a head, as if hung detached from the body. ‘Psst,’ whispered Tootsie, pulling Tenzing into their green abode. The insides of the canopy were furnished with a short table on a bed sheet, a broken cupboard that hid many an adventure and a thick shawl for cold days.

A tiny makeshift hammock made from bamboo grass hung above. Game boards were strewn around like decoration and torches were lying around for late-night escapades. A cookie jar that seemed to be filled with moving black somethings, and other titbits that would seem insignificant to anyone but found a special place with the two friends. ‘Do you want to get some thukpa?’ she asked. ‘I am going to try to get some from Joel Daaju’s restaurant but I’m going to need your help.Tenzing, who was always tired of his mother’s healthy meals and dreary menu (there must be dead green

vegetables in every meal), was quick to agree. ‘Let me go home and get rid of lunch first. I will then tell Aama I am going to fetch some spinach and come to you,’ he said, nodding his head in approval of his strategy, his ringlets bobbing about. Tenzing looked like a boy with a plan. ‘I will see you in forty-five minutes.’ The two quickly hopped out of their hideout, making sure to pull shut the door made from branches, and went their way.

Once home, Tenzing told his mom that he had got rid of the cat.‘We must patch up our fence; that cat is quite a nuisance. You’d better get around to it soon,’ said Mrs Sherpa in her raspy voice. ‘I will,’ said Tenzing, brushing her off. ‘Can you give me lunch first? I’m hungry. Then I will go get your spinach.’

went out to fetch what was left of the clothes drying on the line. Tenzing put the saag between the chapattis and wrapped them up for Kalu and Sheru. He quickly gulped the dal, washed his utensils and ran out. ‘I’ve wiped the platesclean. I’m going now,’ yelled Tenzing as he ran, the chapattis forming a distinct bulge in his coat pocket.

‘It’s only one!’ said a shocked Mrs Sherpa. But it wasn’t often that her son asked for food, so she happily went about preparing a meal of chapattis, dal and, saag. She kept the plate in front of an attentive Tenzing, patted his head encouragingly and

Mrs Sherpa, a little surprised at the speed, suspected nothing, and was only too happy to hear her son had eaten. ‘Come back before dark. When you go to Tootsie’s, you’re never home on time,’ she shouted after him. ‘Yes!’ called back Tenzing, as he dashed off.

Chapter 4

Out in the barn, Tootsie was waiting for Tenzing, wrapped up in a thick knitted sweater, muffler and cap. She had a satchel slung on each side – one that seemed to hold a big box of sorts, and another that seemed to be squirming a little, as if something in it was determined to get out. Everything was safeguarded within her red coat, her matching gumboots polished clean once again and her feet in the readyset-go position. Since Aama–Baba had gone missing, Tootsie had taken care of everything. And while the house could do with a thorough cleaning – the permanent residents now

included a big family of spiders and mice – and the barn needed a new lining of hay, the one thing Tootsie did take due care of was herself. She was great at stitching, having learnt it from Aama, and sewed all her clothes. She cleaned her shoes at night before sleeping and gave herself a scrub bath as often as she deemed fit.

Chapter 4

Tootsie was beginning to get fidgety about Tenzing’s delay, when she caught a glimpse of him running down the hill. She quickly jumped the railing and caught him in the middle.‘It is almost two o’clock, peak time for the restaurant. We must rush. I will explain the plan as we go,’ she said, taking the tone of a commander on mission. Tenzing didn’t ask any questions. He had realized that his questions and suggestions were not always welcome. They had often steered the two away from intended plans, even causing them to go horribly wrong. It was best to follow the plans and instructions given by Tootsie.

The plan was this. Tenzing was to walk into the restaurant and ask to see the manager about a school project. But he would not be alone. He would have with him a bag – one filled with mice, cockroaches and the like – that he was to sneakily let loose on the customers. Then, in the middle of making an inquiry, he was to scream about seeing cockroaches in the restaurant. This would be sufficient to distract the entire staff into the dining area, leaving Tootsie plenty of time to sneak into the kitchen and fill her box with some thukpa.

‘And we can let some mice loose in Mrs Rai’s garden on the way back,’ said Tootsie. ‘She was very nasty about us plucking some tea leaves from her garden.’ The two had once planned to start a business of ‘tea for dogs’, and were gathering leaf samples from around the neighbourhood for brews. But that is a story for another time. Tenzing remembered the day vividly. After all, it was his head that the retired soldier of the Gorkha Rifles, with her stiff, longneck, broad shoulders and long arms, had wrung.

Chapter 5

They reached the restaurant in no time, and Tenzing was handed the wriggling bag – mice, cockroaches, the entire army, all hunted down and captured by Tootsie, ready to be set free. Tootsie gave Tenzing an encouraging look, wished him luck and slinkered to the back door, waiting for the commotion to begin.

Joel’s was a restaurant like any other in Darjeeling – a creaky wooden cottage perched precariously on a hilltop, with a magnificent view of the Kanchenjunga range, and exquisite Nepalese and Tibetan cuisine. Each table was covered with red Formica chipping in the corners and had benches on either side. A traditional bonsai pot adorned all four corners of the room, which was lit with dull yellow

Tenzing calmly entered Joel’s restaurant, and manoeuvred himself and the bag carefully into the crowded setting, making his way to the counter.

bulbs. Like most restaurants in town, Joel’s was also tiny. Tenzing needed to be quick.

Tenzing calmly entered Joel’s restaurant, and manoeuvred himself and the bag carefully into the crowded setting, making his way to the counter.

bulbs. Like most restaurants in town, Joel’s was also tiny. Tenzing needed to be quick.

asked Tenzing in the most innocent voice, cutely blinking his big doe eyes. Now Joel was hardly a sweet soul. He was a giant of a man, known around town for his rather nasty temper. Having inherited the restaurant business from his father, he had quit school, and learnt little else but to cook and eat half of everything he made.

Halfway through the restaurant, when no one was looking, he tripped and fell on the floor, and out of the bag jiggled free all the little devils. Tenzing gathered a few cockroaches and quickly put them on the plates of the distracted couple fussing over their toddler, as he held on to their table to pick himself up. He then trotted confidently to the counter. ‘I am Tenzing Bhutia, and I would like to speak with the manager,’ announced Tenzing. A beefy man across the counter got up to look at the three-foot-tall boy. ‘I am Joel, the owner,’ said the man, his double chin quivering. ‘I am doing a school project on the best restaurant businesses in town, and yours is on top. May I ask you a few questions?’

Unable to bear the kitchen heat, Joel shaved off all his hair when he turned fifteen. It never grew back. And although he still loved food, he cared for nothing other than money, least of all kids.But the compliment about his being one of the best restaurants pleased him. ‘You have come to the right place son,’ he gurgled. ‘Ask away.’

‘How did you, sir, start this outstanding establishment . . .’ Tenzing’s voice trailed, his eyes examining the restaurant, looking out for his signal. And right then he caught sight of a nimble cockroach, climbing on to the toddler’s plate of rice. ‘. . . Oh my god,’ Tenzing yelled. ‘There’s a cockroach in the kid’s food!’ In a dramatic leap, resembling the flying cockroach, Tenzing jumped to the side of the toddler, who had his hand in the rice, a cockroach close to it. ‘There’s a cockroach on the baby’s plate!’ shrieked Tenzing, poking the parents and making them jump out of their chairs. In disbelief, Joel stomped to the table. ‘

There can’t be,’ he said angrily, all the bulging fat in his body – tied in place byhis suspenders – trembling like the panna cotta he specialized in. ‘But there is,’ said the parents in unison, pointing at the plate where a cockroach was now burrowing into the rice, and another was being held by its antlers – the toddler giving it a good, giddy shake. ‘This is impossi–’ Joel started saying when he was cut off by another scream from Tenzing. ‘And there is a mouse, climbing on to the lady’s handbag!’ he screamed, pointing in another direction.

Everyone craned their necks to look, and indeed there was – a tiny brown mouse, with unusually large ears, slack lininghis way from the lady’s golden purse handle into the open bag of groceries by its side.‘And there is a grasshopper dancing on that man’s head,’said Tenzing. He could barely hide his excitement as hespotted the big grasshopper taking centre stage on an old man’s hair nest, performing an allegro to what seemed like Mozart’s Idomeneo .

This was enough to start an uproar. Everyone was on their toes, running in all directions to avoid the cockroaches, mice and grasshoppers that seemed to have taken over the restaurant. This was more than the rattled Joel could manage alone and he called in all his staff to help manage the bewildered crowd. That was Tootsie’s cue.

Chapter 6

Tootsie quickly got into the kitchen through the back door. The heaven that awaited her! There were sights to see everywhere, and smells too many to take in. Translucent golden broths, shiny noodles, ready to steam momo lines, pork ribs braised for weeks, grilled chicken marinated in oranges, chilli and honey, hot and crispy chilli potato, piro aloo, warm tingmo, creamfilled chocolate buns, panna cotta and Joel’s new special – freshly pulled sticky toffee in all colours and flavours imaginable. Everything in the kitchen made Tootsie sweat in excitement and her mouth water. She wanted to take it all, fill all her pockets

with something, but good sense prevailed. She was here to get two portions of thukpa, and only that she must. She didn’t have too much time to waste on these fantastical wonders. She took out the box from her bag, rushed to the hot chicken broth and poured out just enough, leaving room for the crispy chicken, noodles and vegetables. She then moved to dish a rather generous helping of the crispy chicken crusted with Joel’s secret rub, topped it off with a heap of noodles and just a touch of vegetables to silence her healthy conscience.

Chapter 6

Shutting the box tight, she was ready to leave when her eyes strayed on to the chilli chutney lying on the dressing counter. She stopped in her tracks â&#x20AC;&#x201C; her eyes ready to pop out, a steady stream of drool building in her mouth. How she loved chilli! She instantly placed the box on the counter, and began to fill the chutney in a zip-lock bag kept nearby. This done, she shut the box, put it in her bag and rushed out. She ran down the hill and waited for Tenzing near the rock, as per plan.The wait was not long. In only a few minutes, she saw

the scrawny figure of Tenzing come scampering down, her best friend flying with the wind â&#x20AC;&#x201C; holding on to his hat, the now lighter bag fluttering on his side.

‘That went perfectly,’ Tenzing

exclaimed, beaming. ‘Did you get it?’‘That and more,’ replied Tootsie with a satisfied smile. ‘You were great.’Tootsie rarely complimented Tenzing for his work, so he was sure he had done something right.

Chapter 7

The two trotted down the hill to Mrs Rai’s, where they crept into her garden and up to her front door. A quick search for the spare key that Mrs Rai recklessly hid in the flowerpot by the door, and they quietly let themselves in. Mrs Rai was fast asleep in her rocking chair. Tootsie considered coming up with more plans to pay

her back for the terror she had caused, maybe superglue her on to the chair, but the drifting smell of the thukpa distracted her. For now, these little creatures would have to do, she thought, as she unleashed the leftovers from the bag. ‘This should teach her a lesson for hurting my friend,’ said Tootsie, smirking.

‘That went perfectly,’ Tenzing

Chapter 7

Then off they went, out of her garden, and up another steep climb, until they came to their hideout at Tenzingâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s house. They made sure all gaps were covered, before setting the box on the table and settling down. All that activity had worked up their appetite! The lid was opened, spoons grabbed, chutney added and the delicious thukpa gobbled up in minutes. It looked like spoons were flying in the air! It was only when they had almost reached the bottom of the box, their tummies full, that both of them felt their insides twitch. Something in their mouths was squirming, like something was walking, clawing its way around.

‘It feels like something inside me is crawling,’ said Tenzing. They put down their spoons. ‘And something in my mouth is moving!’ exclaimed Tootsie. The two ran out, spewing all that they had eaten. Many a grasshopper took flight and out came one cockroach after another, and another. Free at last! The little bugs must have climbed into the box while Tootsie was busy filling in the chutney.

The two sat back feeling sick. The tasty thukpa didn’t feel like a delicacy any more. Tootsie even swore, for a brief moment, that she would never be able to eat another bowl again.‘I think I’ve had enough for a lifetime.’ ‘This is punishment for stealing,’ said Tenzing. ‘We shall never do it again.’They sat in shock for some more time, until they could no longer delay going home. And so, they left, still feeling quite sick. They could both tell they were going to have a bad morning.

Chapter 8

Tenzing reached home in a sullen mood. He was about to quietly rush upstairs to his room when his mother called.‘Tenzing, is that you? Come for dinner immediately,’ she commanded. Tenzing went into the kitchen. ‘I’m not hungry, Aama,’ he said, looking tired. ‘But you’ve been out all day; look at you, you look like you could do with some energizing bittergourd soup,’ said Mrs Sherpa, looking suspiciously at her son.‘I feel sick, Aama; can I just go to bed?’ asked a sincere Tenzing, his head reeling from all the vomiting and his eyes drooping with sleep. ‘Okay,’ drawled Mrs Sherpa, and was about to get back to her

chores when she saw the bulge in Tenzing’s coat pocket. ‘What is that?’ she said, bending down to take out the neatly wrapped packet.Tenzing flushed. In his hurry to get to Tootsie, and the excitement of thukpa, he had forgotten to feed the chapattis to the dogs.

Chapter 8

Mrs Sherpa flushed too, in anger. ‘What is this!’ she bellowed, unwrapping the chapattis. ‘You lied about eating your lunch, and now you say you don’t want dinner!’ She remembered the spinach Tenzing was told to get. ‘And you, once again, did not get the spinach I asked for. You incorrigible pest!’ Mrs Sherpa’s voice rang so loud that Tootsie, who by now was on the other hill, could hear her over the racket of the thunderstorm that had resumed. Tenzing was so overwhelmed by the events of the day that he couldn’t think of any excuse. Tootsie was better at thinking on her feet. He just looked at his mum – wide-eyed, tongue-tied and shocked at his bad luck.

‘No toffees or goodies for you for a whole year, and you are not to step out of that fence for the whole month, not to meet Tootsie, or anything else,’ she said, stomping threateningly around Tenzing, pinching his ear until it went cherry red. ‘Now go to bed.’ So Tenzing did, head bowed. And so, did Tootsie. For now, this was it.The two friends went to bed and entered their dream world, where cockroaches and grasshoppers didn’t fly out of their thukpa bowls, toffees weren’t banned, and they could meet to play and go on adventures every day.

Well, they could still do all of that. Tenzing had been punished before, very often told he couldn’t meet his best friend, but the two always found a way – well, Tootsie did, and Tenzing was always by her side.

In many ways Tootsie Lama is like any eight-year-old girl in the small hilly town of Darjeeling. But in many ways she is completely different- she lives on her own, goes to bed whenever she like and cooks her own meals. One day Tootsie decides she would really like a delicious, steaming bowl of thukpa, just like her aama use to make it. Now all she needs is a plan Stuti Agarwal grew up in Darjeeling, playing in the mountains and slurping hot thukpa. This is her first book.