“Once the sowing was over, he would often go after midnight to his fields and sit watching the crop grow. Now, however, the sowing season was on. Niaz Beg and Naim had worked hard the past few days to prepare the soil. They only had one pair of bullocks. Mahinder Singh had offered to get them another pair, but suspecting that it would be stolen property they had declined. Father and son had tilled four acres with their one pair, leaving two acres for the second sowing of the rainy season later i...n the year. That was their total ownership: six acres. It was more than three hours before sunrise when Niaz Beg left his bed. He changed the water in his hukka, pulled out a still-smouldering dung cake that he had buried in the hot ash of the hearth at night before going to bed and placed it firmly on a tobacco leaf in the hukka’s headpiece. Within minutes he got it going by pulling deep into his lungs from the pipe. As the fire touched the raw-rubbed tobacco and its smoke hit his windpipe, Niaz Beg coughed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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