Brown Worms
- Harsha Modukuri
- Sep 25, 2019
- 8 min read
Every Sunday, as soon as Raghav comes from Lord’s Bungalow, they would go for a walk. Raghav and his little sister Lakshmi, who was three years younger than him. They would turn to the left, crossing the paddy fields, visiting the path that led to Lord’s other Bungalow called Guest House.
They walk as if they are on a march, and when the thatched roofs become rare and rare, they would pick up the pace a bit more and settle on the shore of Champavati. The river, his mother told him to worship and his father’s livelihood till he was hanged or killed by the Lord. Raghav never knew how he was killed or on what charges, but when a couple of White police accompanied by Indian guards came to his home, he knew he would be working for the Lord for a very long time.
Both the brother and sister were small and thin in their clothes. Raghav had to wear whatever he gets at the Bungalow and the little money he saved goes to buying things for his sister. They both have brown eyes and brown skin, and whenever Raghav worked in the fields of the Lord, he was usually covered in the mud till his hips and the Lord would bark, “You brown dogs, look at the colour of the mud and your skin, fitting jobs you’all got didn’t you?” and walk away.
