The days weren’t that bad for Rakhal Dashi by the grace of god , bread and butter along with life came through the magical water of the river it self. Sometimes fishes weighing 20/30 pounds get caught too. But before selling it off in the market, fellow village women were summoned to witness big catch. And now the waters are filthy enough not to go near it . And bathing in the spring in this water means to get vibrant with colors along with the company.
Rakhal Dashi was happy every “Haat” day, her husband used to bring a saree for her. The fisherman villagers didn’t use to send their children in school. What would they learn there even if they did? Would it make any difference? That’s why they didn’t and the boys learnt how to catch fist like their fathers and their fathers before them. Throughout the whole year, they would fish in the river. Well, that used to be the picture at last.
The river is being tortured now. God has taken all his blessings back. And some fishes are caught in the rainy season. But what at the other times? They try to survive through loans from various NGO’s. Among the four sons only one got married. Other is still living alone. They can’t feed themselves so what would they feed their wives?
Your clothes didn’t take our clothes only: it took our right to live and not to survive. The amount of food you give to your pet dog is just the same as for six of us. And you can see the truth of that of you see the broken rice bowl of Rakhal Dashi; lying in a corner of the house.