That week it rained , and rained .
As if Gods had left the taps on and forgot to turn it off. Said Sibo as she moped around .Her jobs increased tremendously . In the cramped space of her hut , She had to dry the washing , make a make-shift chullah(oven) by sacrificing a good aluminium bucket , and store firewood indoors . One third of her good pots would be placed at strategic points to catch the drips from the roof.
Bhushan in his booming , domineering voice said "It is because the Gods are angry , they are angry because Nimmo ran away with the barber's son ." Bhushan always had a judgemental reasoning to most calamities , small or big. He didn't expect people to giggle as they did at Sibo's remarks . He expected them to be shocked into silence . He would achieve his goal with aplomb.
He was the village eccentric , and no one wanted to argue with him . He sat on his charpoy , smoking his chillum with blood shot eyes , and expounding wisdom of questionable variety . Sibo was content to have him out of her hair . Philosophy or no philosophy . Mostly Bhushan would talk to himself , and be not answered. He was used to the silent treatment . It was a mark of respect . Someone adding a rejoinder , or questioning would be insolence .
On the third night of rain , there was a lull in the rain , and Sibo cooked on her dear beloved outdoor wood stove . A large thud emanated from the hut . A part of the roof had caved in , given up after being lashed by rain . The floor was a mess of splintered rotten bamboo, and stinking heap of sodden straw. Sibo was close to tears .
Bhushan stopped smoking . He got up and cleared the floor with a broom and threw away the trash . He then spread dry gunny sacks on the floor . It was a miracle . Sibo went back to her cooking , in silent gratitude . When she brought in his roti on a steel thali , he was lying down,face up , hands locked behind the head , and admiring the jagged edged gaping hole left by the missing piece of roof . He smiled at Sibo. Another miracle. Sibo didn't like it . A succession of good events put her on the defensive .
"Can you see ?" Bhushan pointed up"All those stars suddenly smiling down at us "
The next day it stopped raining and the sun came out . Bhushan went to the market , and bought a length of transparent plastic sheet . He fixed it around the edges so it became a natural skylight . Now , he could see stars every night from his vantage point . His mood improved and so did Sibo's . Now she could get sunlight throughout the day , and her hut with the bright light of the sun became a talk of the town.
As if Gods had left the taps on and forgot to turn it off. Said Sibo as she moped around .Her jobs increased tremendously . In the cramped space of her hut , She had to dry the washing , make a make-shift chullah(oven) by sacrificing a good aluminium bucket , and store firewood indoors . One third of her good pots would be placed at strategic points to catch the drips from the roof.
Bhushan in his booming , domineering voice said "It is because the Gods are angry , they are angry because Nimmo ran away with the barber's son ." Bhushan always had a judgemental reasoning to most calamities , small or big. He didn't expect people to giggle as they did at Sibo's remarks . He expected them to be shocked into silence . He would achieve his goal with aplomb.
He was the village eccentric , and no one wanted to argue with him . He sat on his charpoy , smoking his chillum with blood shot eyes , and expounding wisdom of questionable variety . Sibo was content to have him out of her hair . Philosophy or no philosophy . Mostly Bhushan would talk to himself , and be not answered. He was used to the silent treatment . It was a mark of respect . Someone adding a rejoinder , or questioning would be insolence .
On the third night of rain , there was a lull in the rain , and Sibo cooked on her dear beloved outdoor wood stove . A large thud emanated from the hut . A part of the roof had caved in , given up after being lashed by rain . The floor was a mess of splintered rotten bamboo, and stinking heap of sodden straw. Sibo was close to tears .
Bhushan stopped smoking . He got up and cleared the floor with a broom and threw away the trash . He then spread dry gunny sacks on the floor . It was a miracle . Sibo went back to her cooking , in silent gratitude . When she brought in his roti on a steel thali , he was lying down,face up , hands locked behind the head , and admiring the jagged edged gaping hole left by the missing piece of roof . He smiled at Sibo. Another miracle. Sibo didn't like it . A succession of good events put her on the defensive .
"Can you see ?" Bhushan pointed up"All those stars suddenly smiling down at us "
The next day it stopped raining and the sun came out . Bhushan went to the market , and bought a length of transparent plastic sheet . He fixed it around the edges so it became a natural skylight . Now , he could see stars every night from his vantage point . His mood improved and so did Sibo's . Now she could get sunlight throughout the day , and her hut with the bright light of the sun became a talk of the town.
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