Murmur of the Lonely Brook Read Online Free PDF

local station, because one could get almost any information from her. She also enjoyed picking up goods from as far away as Peo and Rampur for the shop, though she rarely enjoyed the fruits of profit. Bharat normally sat at the counter on a large box watching a portable TV while a heater warmed his bottom. He kept swearing at Dayawanti for the smallest perceived shortcoming. He rarely moved. In absence of Dayawanti, the customers picked things up and brought them to him for payment.
    Ria ran into the shop and opened a jar of bubble-gum. She picked up a few pieces, smiled at Shevak, and proceeded on her way.
    A light drizzle came in and Shevak and others ran inside the shop. Bharat looked at him and asked, “Is it true that Diwa passed the physical test but could not make it through the written one?”
    Shevak grunted under his breath and said, “Those bastards don’t teach anything at the school, they are just here to take their fat salaries.”
    “That may be true but one needs to spend money for such jobs. I know someone who gave two hundred thousand rupees to get his son inside,” Bharat said.
    “In which case I would prefer him to stay at home and look after the cows,” Shevak said and lit up a bidi.
    Bharat decided not to push the subject, as he was aware of Shevak’s bad temper.
    The rains reached the field also. First, it was a drizzle that floated down from the east and then it covered the field in a mist. Very soon, the three hurried to the shade of a large tree. Parvati crouched on one side and pulled her shawl on top of her head while Diwakar and Nisha stood on the other side. The tree provided some cover but then a big drop splashed on Nisha’s face, on her cheek and ran down. Diwakar was standing close and felt a strong urge to kiss her rain-kissed lips. But before long, another drop splashed on his eyes and Nisha laughed. A puddle formed next to them and the raindrops formed ringlets, breaking the silver at places where it hit the water. The rain fell harder; the slow drumming sound of water on oak leaves filled the space and very soon, everyone was wet. Nisha looked far away at the hazy mountains. Rains brought back memories, memories of her parents, her aaya, her brother, and memories of childhood.
    Nisha was thinking about Pravin. She remembered the meetings at Peo and his eyes full of dreams. There was no such thing as an affair; in the hills, marriage happens first and then love. In the hills, life is more primal and routine. Marriage is a duty, an unwritten contract to labor for the rest of one’s life in exchange for food and shelter. No one complained. No one thought that life could be something different. She remembered her aaya, who told her about Lord Shiva and his wife Parvati—that they were the ideal couple and Parvati the ideal wife, who would sacrifice her life for her husband. Every girl should aspire to be a wife like her and devote her entire life to her husband. After marriage, a woman should never look at any other man and always keep her eyes down in front of others. She should keep herself covered as far as possible and never speak in the presence of other men. She should always walk one step behind her husband and follow him for the rest of her life.
    Diwakar looked at Nisha, who was obviously lost in thought. Nisha’s kameez was plastered to her body; it accentuated her breasts, her slim hips, thighs, and whole body. Diwakar had a strong desire to hold her close; more than passion, he wanted to care for her. Nisha, as if sensing his thoughts, smiled at him and ran her finger down his nose, stopping briefly at his lips. He felt a stirring inside and a wave of excitement ran through his body. He stepped out of the shade into the rain and looked up stretching his hands. The rains cooled him down as it splattered his face.
    “You’ll get sick,” Nisha shouted above the sound of the rain.
    “Not me,” he said as he dashed out to the fields.
    Rains don’t last for long in the