Building a Wider
Horizon With Labour
There was an abundance of fish in the talab (pond) that day, or that’s what Dhanimathi thought drove down the price. She couldn’t remember the last time she squatted near the chulha (stove) to cook a meal for more than just herself. It would soon be time to gather her neighbours to line the concrete road outside her mud hut. The evening bus from Kharsia was expected at around 8pm and on it were her sons, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. Eight years had passed since she last saw them and the reunion was predictably joyous. The weary travellers, who got off the bus in their native village of Amaldia, were held by their hands and led home. The neighbours were eager to help with the luggage, but found the family had brought nothing. The Vishvakarmas sat together that night and devoured the fish Dhanimathi cooked, in the very clothes they travelled in.
