The road outside was being tarred. In forty degree Celsius heat! May is a cruel month to work in the afternoon, and the tribals poor from their famine struck village, tarring it, in the sweltering heat The babies sleeping on thin frail malnourished sheets like themselves. I had to go inside my house They moved way to let my car in I ran in The scorching heat was getting to me. I told my servant to give them biscuits and sherbet with lots of sugar in it and naturally it had to be in disposable glasses' it assuages my guilt. And I looked at the women in their ghaghras and silver anklets putting tar on the road and the men with muscular arms. And I thought looking at them I am the blessed one' but then I wasn't sure'.maybe they get good sex.
