In twilight skies, soared a large flock of birds. Some days, they swore they saw a murmuration of starlings. Most days, they imagined it. One summer afternoon, under the banyan tree, children gathered peanut shells strewn everywhere. Stirring patterns into the ground, they dug up more trash tossing them towards the tree, one by one. […]Read more "‘My husband abandoned us twenty years ago. Drought took away everything I had…’"
He looked at us standing beside them. His eyes lingered on our bare feet. Children scurried along pathways that led to the back alley lest their mothers caught them playing with their friends. It was time for supper. The elders blinked rapidly and held sombre faces. They knew him. “Someone informed me that you have […]Read more "‘I’ll tell you everything about NREGA. Everyone knew what was happening in Masrudi…’"
“My son dropped out of school after ninth grade. The goats are his responsibility now. He keeps telling us he wishes to finish high school some day. But, we are helpless. At least, our girls will study. Maybe, they’ll even go to college. I don’t know. We can’t have too many dreams. I worry […]Read more "‘Even amongst the poor, there lie the poorest who get nothing…’"
The scent of petrichor reminded him of his childhood. His tiny pouch had areca nuts cut neatly into shards. In another bag, betel leaves were arranged lengthwise. They were tied to his waist. Shortly after the rains stopped, he heard the bus. He twirled his moustache as he waited for them. They were friends. For […]Read more "‘It’s easier for them to send her away. She is somebody else’s problem now.’"
At this time, the roads were deserted. Once more, a silence befell us. With every passing moment, the day grew hotter. In parting shadows, amidst arecanut palms, loitered a troop of women. They disappeared before us. We imagined their downtrodden eyes looking for shelter beneath trees. There they stood, for minutes perhaps, hoping to catch […]Read more "‘Poverty is worst enemy of human rights…’"
“We remember everything. The first signs of rain. The last signs of life. You never forget these things. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. First signs of death are the hardest to fathom. They always are. With the death of a harvest, comes the death of a voice. And, in their silent wails, you […]Read more "‘Everything looks dead in the village. Everything but us…’"
Dawn brought in warmth. It always did, these days. Like all summer mornings, the winds stirred the trees awake. They stood tall amidst a sea of green. In a distance, a grove of arecanut palms roared and fell silent again. Some fields strung a barren note. With every season, the tempest of maladies grew fierce […]Read more "‘Water: It’s the source of our life, and our struggles’"