“Who says such things nowadays, Kadhei?” In every village, the talk spreads; Nalabha’s katha; the endless disputes over land and water—everywhere, you hear the same old complaints; people and children become restless, unable to bear it. And what does anyone do about it? The wealth of Har Mishra keeps increasing; the sons of Sanei become more arrogant—hearing these endless complaints, even the village headman’s eyes fill with tears—

What will you keep forever, Who will rule with strength?

Chapter Eight

Who knows when anyone last offered a handful of rice to the gods—“Mother Mangala, let him return safely, let the journey end well—O Lord Kapalashore, may your grace be upon him, may he return home unharmed.” Baraju was gone for five days; no one knew where he stayed. The day Shabdabhoja took money to buy kapani, that very evening, he came running from the edge of the village and shouted, “Come quickly, father has come!” Hagabohu was sitting at the doorway in the dusk, lost in thought, who knows what was going through her mind!

When she came to the door and stood in the middle of the threshold, Suna brought water in a brass pot to wash his feet and set it down beside her. Hagabohu, covering her face with her sari, turned away from her husband—

Looking at the house, it seemed as if its face had dried up, as if a layer of dust had settled upon it, as if the hair on its head had become rough and disheveled. From the tangled undergrowth, she suddenly rose and entered the house. Tears streamed down from Hagbod’s eyes, falling in a steady flow; after the children, she too began to weep.

Baraju returned, but there was no joy in his heart—his face was clouded with worry. He could not decide whether to feed the children or to tend to other chores. Whatever happened, he always replied to his mother with a “yes,” but there was no happiness in any word.

Nesamani, with her head bowed, plucked and chewed betel leaves, smiling as she spoke to Chakada, “Look at this Navaranga—so many colors, so many families will be formed—this is just a glimpse for us to see.” Chakada, seeing Nesamani’s beauty, felt happy—“Isn’t it just to show you, what else?” Nesamani replied, “You don’t truly understand the meaning—listen, after my father’s house, I will enter the wedding house—what will happen then? Will it be happiness or sorrow, who knows? Let me say it now—I will not stay in that wedding house—take me alone to your home and give me sweets, yes!”

Chakada lost his senses—should he return to his father’s house for six months or so? My mother’s festival daughter, sometimes she is so proud, sometimes so humble, and if a month passes—

He will not send it. Father will say, “Why all this fuss as soon as I arrive? Has the ant eaten up the sugar jar?” Chakada says, “Well, let it be so—if we had all stayed