Chamar’s wife
and
Chaudhari making advances !
she
instantly broke out of her
husband’s
bangles.
with
a big bamboo-stick in hand,
the
moustached-man drove away
the
rejoicing woman.
drooping
and dancing
smiling
and swinging,
Gabhla’s
wife reached Chaudhari-vas
in
the dark of night.
only
to collect dung all her life.
litting pyre in the hearth
burning fats of his legs,
Gabhalo
sat roasting dead liver’s pieces
drinking
the juice of opium-fruits.
as
if a cock is roasted alive
in
the sacrificial fire, the havan,
eyes
overflowing with tears,
spiraling
and sparkling
his
little children encircled by the fireside.
and
Gabhlo made a fat and unevenbajra loaf on the earthen pan
red
on fire.
like
loban incense smokes.
the
suffocating odour of her ghaghra
spread
till midnight in the hut
and
the blouse was dripping in his dreams
like
sweet drops falling from the honey-comb.
at
daybreak,
with
broken heart
and
no sundhal, no partner,
Gabhla
yoked himself
toChaudhari’s
plough again.
all
alone.
Sundhal : two poor farmers making, each having single
ox, making partnership for ploughing.
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