Thursday, October 13, 2016

Day13. The Little People.

And then there are days like today when you feel how heavy your feet become with a strolling net connection, piled up work and no domestic help, all conspiring against you and saying ‘Hello, now show me.’ Well, haven’t been able to prove my super woman traits yet but I am struggling. While the official work took the priority, I stole some time to show up for my today’s post and also organize the look of the page for easier navigation. Have started a new story but couldn’t complete it today. Hoping a closure on this tomorrow. Till then, happy reading.

The tinkling of the tiny golden bells woven around the black collar of Shehanshah made a lilting sound, waking up Salim. His heart bounced with the latest purchase from the Id fair two days back. The black collar of Shehanshah, was on Salim’s mind and he had been saving for it since long. The day broke earlier than usual for Salim today. He rushed out of the only room under the thatched roof, skirting past the open kitchen which was guarded by the half wall to reach out to his best companion, his Shehanshah. Ammi, Rabia was still busy cooking the meal which would suffice her and Salim till afternoon. Her mind reeling over the money to be repaid she borrowed four months back to repair the roof. Completely engrossed she rolled the last of the six thick chapattis of bajra with a gestating glance outside beyond the kachha dominion. Salim was caressing Shehanshah’s neck feeding him the dry grass. Rains have been delayed this year banishing life around in all forms, in every home and every corner of the village. The farms have dried up turning the landlords and workers jobless. Only the haves, the people from the ‘Badi Havelis’ would survive a bit longer. Rabia has decided to walk up to the havelis in search of job. Even a petty job would fetch meals for her and little Salim. Life revolved around the basic necessity, gathering food for two. Beyond that the needs ceased to exist. But now, the penury was appalling with the dues of 400 rupees mounting up on her every day which if she fails to pay by in another two days, they will take away Shehanshah.

Soon the sun will be shining mercilessly on its acme and the hot winds will desert the streets of the village. The lone tree near Rabia’s hut was the only respite for Shehanshah, the onlooker of this life beyond. He moved around his anchor relentlessly and the bells echoed. Salim fondled Shehanshah on his neck and

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