“She stared out of the window, so high above the sea that the only view was the emptiness of the sky. The rarefied vista calmed and expanded thought; even the sharp cries of wheeling birds added to the tranquillity. Mrs Murjani always sat back from her windows to catch this eternal view. She never thrust her head out as did other residents of Sadhbela, yelling down to hawkers in the street, gossiping to neighbours at windows, always aimlessly absorbed in life on the ground. To look down was to s...ee the filth of the hutments up the road, crawling with half-naked children, and beyond it the immovable dhobi ghat, from which the continuous, rhythmic slap of washing bound the day like a metronome. No such depressing sights were allowed on Mrs Murjani’s horizon. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Sometimes she thought the beggars had it easy. They had only to find one meal in two days and they died only once in the usual way. People like herself might die many deaths of unremitting shame if they let up for a moment.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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