He typed back: "I know. I found the old one in your cupboard last month. I put it back."

His phone buzzed.

The movie—a tiny indie film no one had heard of—wasn't really about her. But the title character, a prickly, brilliant older sister who resented her role as second mother to a younger sibling, might as well have been Diya with the serial numbers filed off.

There was a scene halfway through. The younger sister, now grown, visits the didi in a cramped city apartment. She's brought thepla from their mother. The didi takes a bite, stops chewing, and says nothing. Her eyes fill. The younger sister doesn't hug her. She just sits on the floor and starts folding laundry.