3.Three Muskateers

(Continued from previous post...)

The three bamboo musketeers turned back from Koll with the booty of the bunches of red and white lotus flowers with long flowing stems. On the way girls and small kids ran after them begging for flowers. They distributed all before they reach home. They were like warriors distributing their booty. Mrdul's father will get angry if he has seen Mridul's skin coated with a translucent film of fine clay and his pores smelling mud. Haneef'a father left his mother beyond his memory. Kunjumon's father is a farmer and he smells mud. But Mridul's father is a cotton mill worker. He wears white khadi and comb his long wavy hair. His tall frame walking with graceful long strides is a monumental vision of the village of farmers and small time merchants. The village toils in the paddy field and neighbouring town to roll the wheel of life. Some village youth travel to Mumbai and to gulf countries and there is much news about them. Now and then someone comes home and their homes plays transistor radios loudly. Mridul's dad and mum were the most literate in the neighbourhood. His mother writes in blue inland letter of Indian Post to a few husbands in Mumbai.."to read and know my most beloved husband. Here everyone is happy. Hope there is also happiness......