Meetha's throat desiccated like the fields beside her as the unembellished trees watched upon her mutedly on the desolate stretch. The blue skies were blurred with thick black clouds of smoke snaking high in the skies that now seemed to form scary faces as if to mock at her. Neither an inch of shade nor an iota of air anywhere, she lay there, her mind storming into a whirlwind of old memories....
"Wake up Meetha, you are not here for a holiday, we have to meet the village head today, come on hurry up!" Irene had screamed. ..
Chikkegowda, the village head sat languidly on the charpoy outside his shanty office, scanning the local newspaper. His creased forehead now seemed to iron out as he turned his shrewd gaze from the daily towards us, shaking his sharp toed Mojari vigorously, he began........
"Do you know, that Kaashi, escaped to the city leaving behind his aged parents and his fields, but today he is washing dishes at a fast food for a pittance! Tell me madam if all the farmers took degrees and sat in plush offices, who would grow food for you?
There was stoic silence for a while, and then he resumed again.....
"You can help the local school but don't trap them in the city lure in the name of growth.
"Sure sir! But would you know where Lalitha teacher is? We have not heard from her for long", I had interrupted peevishly.
"Who Lalitha"? You are here as a teacher, don't try to police around" He barked from beneath his thick curled moustache perfected with his bloodshot eyes that seemed to match his turban now, Irene tried to water down the steaming debate but he walked over us with his army of brawny yes men amidst noisy bikes blowing a ball of dust at us.
"Irene! You didn't have to be so naïve"!!
"But you can't be so judgemental Meetha, he is the village head and we cannot pick holes at him now, we will need to be in his good books".
We walked the dusty path under the afternoon sun that blazed in all fervour, at a distance a dingy little structure painted in tricolour, the only school in the village greeted us. The teacher was busy teaching a few older kids inside the classroom while others played in the open. As the school bell blared the children rushed out and the teacher hurried too.
Irene approached the teacher gesturing to talk but she walked past without giving a damn.
Taken aback by her acerbic gestures we sat down on the bench looking around for anything worthy of our attention.
Five months ago Lalitha was here to revamp this school but there had been no communication from her ever since then. Nobody even acknowledged that she was here, even the records reflected otherwise but we were determined to fetch answers.
"Meetha, do you remember how inconsolable Lalitha's old mother had been? The old lady's despondency forces us to send this fund request to office".
"What request Irene?" I had enquired....
"Meetha madam, if we have to spend more time here then we need money now can you please sign this?
"Irene I still remember the last time I spoke to Lalitha, oh the tremble in her voice! She was completely petrified and wanted to confide something when the call ended abruptly! What could it be?"
"Don't worry Meetha, let's hope she is fine" Irene had assured.......
The next day we reached the school premises to meet the teacher yet again. The fresh morning air wafting across the vast expanse of paddy fields with their chirping inmates was so invigorating that the tautness within diminished for a while, just then we heard the sweeping sound of a broomstick, it was Sidda the peon clearing the scattered bed of dried leaves unhurriedly.
