he shook his head for the warm tea did not stop the fever’s violent shaking.
outside the dark birds flew in the sky arranging themselves like the very alphabet of his thought
his auto idle, there had been no income for three days. He looked down at his lungi folded up to above his skinny hairy thinning legs. like an insect, his mother had often said-
he owed money for ten days worth of drinks. it will come it must come don’t make such a loud fuss.
his only daughter, squatting by the roadside, smoking ganja. she had stolen his bicycle. now on the back seat of her bicycle sat her quack doctor with her baby-killing pills.
Did you come to mock me? he stared long at his unshaven reflection in the mirror.
he thought he must go to a movie tomorrow.
When he had returned home early that day, his wife had said surely its going to rain!
He fingered the envelope with his name typed in english (and english inside everywhere too) calling him for the interview. His name in inglis filled him with pride as if he already had the job
Where are all my certificates?- getting a government job is not a joke. he must pray. he remembered his father. he must have to take the train from the central station. he looked at his certificates a long time.
You have so many certificates, his wife said proudly, dhanapal has nothing.
Only when he was drunk did he realize that he could not live without her, nobody could set up a house for him quite like her.
but when she abused him, the entire village gathered to listen and watch the joke--
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