Folly of Wise Men

Chapter - 3 Lies of Dreams and Masters

I slipped away from the garden and mingled with the rest of the workers. Those who noticed my absence refrained from ratting me to the guard. For they understood that simpering was an art solely reserved for uchavarnas, not untouchables destined to never rise from their ranks socially or economically. So they pretended like nothing ever happened.

A few hours later, we finished our work, received our payment, and returned to our lives in our walled prison. By the time I got back to the precinct, darkness spilled over the never-ending vault. The moon shone brightly, peeking from behind the clouds, allowing its radiance to touch only the fortunate few. The stars blinked with gusto, resisting the encroaching darkness that threatened the light, much like a jealous maiden scorning a fair blossom dissimilar.

I did not return home. Instead, I found a quiet corner, avoiding the sea of faces. Among those faces, some bore a spark that winked even in melancholy. That spark held me too, making my lips blossom into a cheerful smile as my gaze and lips worked in unison, reading the writ of employment.

Reading and writing in the common tongue were legally required skills for every person in the empire, including someone like me, who was considered the seed of a vile-rooted tree.

You might be wondering why these shit dwellers get to read and write. Go and ask your god king. He made the rules.

I held the letter close to my chest, afraid to be apart from it. Not only was I offered a paid job, but I was also provided the opportunity to receive education. I was very happy, but I didn't act foolishly. I didn't tell my family. I simply couldn't risk it. I lied that I was employed to do menial chores. I explained to them that I had impressed my prospective employer by carrying her belongings.

"Serve your master with unquestionable loyalty, boy," my father advised, his eyebrows forming a gentle crease shaped like an arrow tip, and his eyes slightly narrowed.

"I will, Father," I promised. He wasn't a good man, and all his vices had only brought him misfortune. Hatred for his ignorance and infidelity burned hot beneath the guise of an obedient son who never refused to heed his father's words. However, it only lasted until I became a man and saw the man who raised me for what he truly was—a pitiful wretch.

Some say that apples do not fall far from the tree. In my case, they would be half right. Like him, I ruined the happiness of the woman I loved, and I never paid the price. Though I did not insult her faith by committing adultery, I hurt her in many ways that I am ashamed to admit. Perhaps I am not a better man than he; for I had the liberty to be at peace, and I did not use it and treated it as something disposable.

"Good, you sought employment; perhaps you will find something for your sisters. A kind word from your master would do the trick," my mother said hopefully, and she was not wrong to hope for further employment.

The home could not sustain with just two of us working; our wages were low and not enough to survive. Devika and Mythri were thirteen summers old and had been taught to do menial chores. All they needed was work-shy employers who were consistently overwhelmed by arduous household tasks and willing to part with some coin to free themselves from such torment.

"I will try, mother."

"Do not talk to her at all, lest you draw her ire. They will take offense, even if you do not mean it. It is better to be safe than sorry, even if it seems unfair."

"Unfair?" My father raised his voice and attempted to get up from his bed, but couldn't. "They are kind enough to let us live, and you talk about unfairness."

My mother ignored him and served me a bowl of porridge. "She might be a woman, but do not underestimate their cruelty. I knew a seemingly kind woman who lashed out at a servant because her husband looked at her with a lustful gaze. I want you to be very careful."