Translated from the Original Hindi by
Kanwar Dinesh Singh

When he drove the bulls towards the fields, he felt that he had immense power. He could do a lot! А lot! When he sowed the seed, he felt that he had scattered a small part of his heart in the field. When he irrigated, he felt he had shed his affection. And then the sprouts appeared—his dreams were born. And the crops started swaying, his dreams started swaying. He began to feel that the whole sky had come down in his fields with coloured stars.
After loading the crop, when he began to drive the bullock cart out of his house, his wife told him her requirements. He kept smiling. When he stopped the bullock cart in the market, he felt as if he had stopped in a crematorium where small and big vultures were already waiting for him.
The crop was sold. Accounts were revised.
God knows who was dishonest. He lost the cash stakes at the borrowed money. He lost the principal amount to the interest accumulated on it. He was again empty-handed. He was in a wretched condition. The bulls were hungry. He was going back—drunk, humming a folksong. And he felt that the sky was far above the ground and the stars were so pale! The night was so strange. He didn’t even know if he would be able to reach the village.
*

Dr Kanwar Dinesh Singh
Poet, Storyteller, Critic and Translator, Associate Professor of English & Editor: Hyphen

3, Cecil Quarters, Chaura Maidan, Shimla: 171004 HP India

Email: kanwardineshsingh@gmail.com
Mobile: +91 94186 26090