In the Shadow of a Dream Read Online Free

child to be left there. I have been watching for some time. It is a wonder the langurs did not pick up the child?’
    Langurs , the black-faced, long tailed, grey monkeys, lived and frolicked in the branches of the large, spreading banyan tree, near the Temple and under which the panwalla sets up his stall every morning. The woman drew nearer. ‘ Arrey, speak of the monkeys with respect. They are sacred children of Hanuman. And have you not noted, when they gather together there are never more than seven? Every Brahmin knows seven is an auspicious number…’ She hesitated as if in doubt. ‘But long time now I have not seen that number. Don’t seem to be seven left, now.’
    ‘That’s because the main colony moved to Biwara. Hast thou not seen them at the Biwara railway station? It is festooned with monkeys.’
    ‘Biku, why would I go to Biwara?’
    Biku rolled his head. ‘Believe me, they have become a damn nuisance. They raid the trains and harass the train passengers. Children of Hanuman! Huh!’
    ‘Biku, if you drove them away, some evil fate will befall you. Mark my words.’
    ‘Mother, I don’t believe in all that nonsense. My protector is goddess Lakshmi.’
    ‘Spoken like a bunia.’ The old woman shook her head, pressed the child to her breast and moved on.
    But her son Motilal was unhappy. ‘Mother, what have you done? See, the boy is hungry. See how he searches to be fed.’
    ‘My dugs may be dry!’ Girja Devi shouted, ‘but…’ Her son gestured her to keep her voice down. She took a deep breath. ‘I have thought with great care. I’ll not let this child die. Hai Ram ! Padmini is full with milk. She can suckle the boy.’
    ‘Our cook Padmini? She has her own child to feed.’
    ‘She can spare a little. Seen how big her breasts are? Like melons. All that ghee she robs from us…’ Girja Devi was interrupted by the sound of Motilal striking his forehead with the palm of his hand. ‘Don’t do that! Lately you have been showing a lot of impatience. Listen, whenever Padmini can’t,’ she continued, ‘I’ll dilute cow’s milk with water that has been blessed by the temple priest. It’ll be doubly sacred— gow mata, mother cow, is holy—and will give the boy strength. Just leave me to it… to…and since when does a man know more than a woman? My maternal instincts have never failed me.’
    Motilal threw up his hands. ‘Well, do what you want. Old age, they say, truly casts its spell of madness. Anyway, that child won’t live. Not without his real mother.’ Motilal left the room.
    ‘See! As I said, you know nothing.’ She shouted after him.
    Motilal returned with frowning deeply. ‘What do you mean? I can’t be the village headman and be accused of knowing nothing. Mother you do…’
    ‘ Arrey , just you wait. The boy will live…he’s Bhagwan Vishnu’s gift to me. For too long my life has been loveless. All that’s been left for me till now is to patiently await death. Evil spirits took away my grandson, Krishna. But now, great god, Harè Ram a, gives me a gift to bless my last remaining days.’
    ‘Then, ungrateful mother, pray that the gods give you a long life, because once you’ve gone, I’ll not have a fatherless child in the house. I can’t. I am the village headman and my role is an example to all. Understand?’
    ‘I shall call him Balaram, the child of Rama, Lord Vishnu’s gift to me.’
    ‘Make up your mind. Rama or Vishnu?’
    ‘Fool. They are the same. Lord Rama is an avatar of god Vishnu.’
    ‘And in time he will be called Bal for short. Thought of that? Bal means child. Fancy how he’ll feel to be called “child” all his life. Yes, yes, it also means hair. That is even worse. But have you heard? I said I’ll not foster him. He will be homeless. Better to let some low caste woman bring him up in a permanent home. I’ll make enquiries when the elders meet. I’ll find a mother for him. I am not headman for nothing.’
    ‘I will not let you do that.