In true responsible fashion, I barked out instructions like a drill sergeant. "Sakhi, red crayon! Prem, pencils are for drawing, not chewing! Zoya, lend Rishi a hand with that paper airplane please." With a sigh, I slumped into my chair, running my fingers through the wild jungle of my hair. It was Saturday morning, and here I was at the orphanage, leading a pack of pre-teens in the origami arts of butterfly folding and waterfall sketching.
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