"A man in my village got made a talaab that cost him two Crore rupiya. " And a dark man, mid-thirties, with pencil thin mustache, cycled right next to the cycle-rickshaw I was being driven in. "2 Crore!"
It was a terribly hot dusty day and the time was well past four.
Sometimes people just want to talk. He was talking to me. I thought he said something about taala. A lock that costs two Crore! "Why?"
The man put his arm on the iron side-rest of the rickshaw and told me about the rich man of his village who order made a lake completed at the cost of Rs. 2 Crore and *** Lakh. Once complete, the rich man then donated the talaab to the villagers. "You see he was doing it all for his son who had no children. And lo! A year later his son got two boys! Blessing of all the villages worked for him. One must give. It's important. Money it goes around. Even one rupee. May be I have something to do with that one rupee."
"Yes, it goes around," I repeated. I was wearing: my father's leather chappal that cost Rs.300-700, a T-shirt that cost me around Rs. 500, a jeans that cost me around Rs. 900, an underwear that cost me around Rs. 200 and a silver taveez that I don't know the cost of. (Yes, I did check my wallet) "Which village?"
"Hhhkya?" He was still talking. "Saharsa, Bihar." For a second he seemed to be in some sad thought.
The day was just too hot.
The man moved his arm back to the front of his bicycle and started adding English words to his sentences. "Man should not worry too much about the past. Everything becomes okay. Everything fine. Work for future..." Talking."One has to be good."
We were at a crossroad. I asked the rickshaw wallah to take a left. The man on cycle kept going straight. I was loosing interest anyway.There's the Atlas logo.
Two hours later, the sun was a color white not befitting a sun.
It was a terribly hot dusty day and the time was well past four.
Sometimes people just want to talk. He was talking to me. I thought he said something about taala. A lock that costs two Crore! "Why?"
The man put his arm on the iron side-rest of the rickshaw and told me about the rich man of his village who order made a lake completed at the cost of Rs. 2 Crore and *** Lakh. Once complete, the rich man then donated the talaab to the villagers. "You see he was doing it all for his son who had no children. And lo! A year later his son got two boys! Blessing of all the villages worked for him. One must give. It's important. Money it goes around. Even one rupee. May be I have something to do with that one rupee."
"Yes, it goes around," I repeated. I was wearing: my father's leather chappal that cost Rs.300-700, a T-shirt that cost me around Rs. 500, a jeans that cost me around Rs. 900, an underwear that cost me around Rs. 200 and a silver taveez that I don't know the cost of. (Yes, I did check my wallet) "Which village?"
"Hhhkya?" He was still talking. "Saharsa, Bihar." For a second he seemed to be in some sad thought.
The day was just too hot.
The man moved his arm back to the front of his bicycle and started adding English words to his sentences. "Man should not worry too much about the past. Everything becomes okay. Everything fine. Work for future..." Talking."One has to be good."
We were at a crossroad. I asked the rickshaw wallah to take a left. The man on cycle kept going straight. I was loosing interest anyway.There's the Atlas logo.
Two hours later, the sun was a color white not befitting a sun.
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