Half Girlfriend (1)

17
Six months later
'You promised, Sarpanch ji,’ I said, using a hand fan to cool
myself. I had come to his house a third time. Sarpanch Gopi, the man
in charge of Aamva village, had assured me that every child in his
village would come to school.
His wife brought us two glasses of lukewarm sattu, a roasted
powder of pulses and lentils mixed in water. I wished it was a little
cooler and less sweet, but drank it anyway.
The sixty-year-old sarpanch wore a greyish-white turban, matching
his clothes.
‘I thought they joined school. We sent eight children,’ he said.
‘They stopped coming after a week,’
‘So what can I do, Rajkumar sahib? I tried.’
‘You have to tell them to commit to it. School isn’t like visiting the
village fair. It takes years to get educated.’
‘And what do they do with it?’
‘Excuse me? It’s almost free.Where is the problem?’
Gopi paused to look at me. He took out a beedi from his pajama
pocket and lit it.
‘Time. Their parents would rather the children help in the fields.’
‘And what will they do when they grow up?'
‘They will grow up only if they have food. They need to work in
the fields for that.’
I fell silent. You can’t win over villagers with an argument. You
have to listen to what they have to say.
The sarpanch took a deep puff from his beedi.
‘You studied in a big city?’ he said.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Big-city types never get it.Without knowing us they have all the