The Book of Bihari Literature by Abhay K

Author:Abhay K.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: null
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

93 A strongman, usually also the caretaker of the house, cattle and fields

94 God you’re one, God you’re one!

95 Prayer chamber

96 Guest room

97 Mother, oh mother!

The Turning

Aniruddha Prasad Vimal

(Translated from the Angika by Vivek Perampurna)

The earth slopes down once you cross Baratikar on Majhauni Road. Right below it, nestled in the small hillocks of Jethaur, is a small settlement of the Kadirs.98 They call it Jeetnagar. Totally separated from the main community, it has approximately twenty to twenty-five houses. Stricken by poverty, the children of the Kadirs roam carefree and bare-chested, with hardly any piece of clothing on their bodies, in the chilly winter.

Before dawn breaks, they run to the fields with fists clenched under their armpits to take a dump. The westerlies carry the chill—sharp as needles—and all you can hear is the deep howl of the winds. December is on its way out. There are bamboo groves all around and mustard flowers adorn the terrain, swaying with the wind, as if calling out to the spring.

The sun is halfway up and the alley reverberates with the noise of kids squabbling over a game of tipcat. Suddenly, there is a commotion in Ramu’s house. Loud voices rise, interspersed with wailing. Men, women and kids, the old and the young, run towards his house.

The walls are low and made of mud. The thatching of khus99 is held together by crumbling bamboo poles. The jambs are broken. The villagers jump over the walls and crowd Ramu’s courtyard where Ramu had just given his wife a sound thrashing.

Sonam was spewing the choicest of expletives. ‘You low life, may you be infected with leprosy and may you lose the hands that you raised on me. May you have the curse of Rangdhari Baba on you and may you vomit blood till you die.’ She was crying and cursing everyone, all in one breath.

Ramu’s wrath simmered periodically. His heavy breathing sounded like air passing through bamboo reeds. He was warning Sonam to stop cursing him, but she continued: `This lazy bugger! Can’t feed his family, but he is man enough to hit me every day. The whole day he works for the master, and then he snores through the night like a bloody codger. In the morning, he asks for rice. Where should I get him rice from? Out of thin air?’

Ramu was about to lash out again with his shepherd’s crook, but Batesar held his hand. `Don’t hit her,’ he said to Ramu. ‘Everyday your house witnesses the same fight. She is your wife, not your cattle that you can flog her at will.’

Batesar was like the headman of Jeetnagar. When he said something, neither the village committee members nor anybody else disputed him. His decision was final. Nobody could dare cross him.

Ramu threw his crook into a corner and addressed Batesar vehemently. ‘I will stop, uncle, but when will this woman cease cursing me? Look at her viciousness! She has nearly gobbled up my entire clan. If things continue like this, one day I will strangle her to death.

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