Nectar In a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya

Author:Kamala Markandaya
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HopeRoad Publishing.com

17

WHEN KUTI WAS GONE—WITH A BLAND INDIFFERENCE THAT MOCKED OUR loss—the abundant grain grew ripe. It was the second crop of the year, sown on ground which had not been allowed to lie fallow, and so we did not think it would be other than meagre; but contrary to our expectations it was a very good harvest. Every husk was filled, the paddy stood firm and healthy, showing no breaks in their ranks. We worked through the days and in the twilight getting in the rice, and then we worked three more days draining the fields and clearing them, and then three more nights sifting and winnowing. Even so, a heap of unhusked paddy lay in our granary, waiting until the marketing should be done.

‘It is as I said,’ Nathan exclaimed. ‘Strength has been given to us. Else how could so much have been achieved by such as we are?’ He looked round triumphantly, pointing to the neat white hills of rice and the husks in a rustling brown heap. We looked at each other, streaked with sweat, thin and bony like scarecrows and as ugly, and suddenly what he had said seemed very funny; and first Selvam and then Ira began to laugh, helpless, speechless, with tears running down their cheeks, until we older people slowly joined them—could not help but join in their laughter—and the spectre of what had been tweaked at our memories in vain. There we were, the four of us, hysterical, released, rocking with laughter and gasping for breath which ran out as fast as we sucked it in. The hollow cheeks and bulging stomachs, the grotesque, jutting bones, became matter for laughter; already, though they were still with us, in our minds they belonged to the past—to the painful past that we thrust from us with all our force; and the laughter was in some measure born of relief that we could do so.

Nathan especially was in exuberant mood. He kept slapping his thigh and shaking his head as if he could not believe in so much good fortune; in his palm he held a few grains of rice, rubbing them together to produce a dry rustle which seemed to delight him, for he kept repeating the movement. Perhaps it was to reassure himself that they were real and not part of his desperate imaginings.

‘There will be enough to pay what we owe,’ he exclaimed, ‘and to keep what we want. We can stock the fields with fish as well—’

‘And plant vegetables,’ I said. ‘I shall need to buy bean seeds and chilli seeds, and perhaps a few young pumpkin vines … sweet potatoes of course … I have made a lot from my vegetables before.’

‘Indeed yes,’ he said eagerly. ‘There will be money enough for all this, you will see. God has given us another chance in His mercy.’

‘First the marketing,’ I said smiling, for who would not at such optimism, ‘then the plans.’

Then and there, in a fever of impatience, we got out the gunny bags and the tall brass measure, and set to calculating quantities and prices.

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