The Embroiderer
The early morning rays of the sun silently crept up on the sand dunes, casting a glow here and a shadow there. The air was still cool and the birds which had started chirping about an hour ago were slowing down on their melody. At this serene moment when nature and its living things were attuned to each other, the womenfolk of Pir Bagan Shah began their diurnal routine silently and swiftly without any rancor or misgivings. There was no point in sitting and doing nothing as in the end they alone were responsible for every iota of work done in this small hamlet of about twenty odd houses. Fifteen year old Tara, swiftly started to brush her house and the surrounding area clean, then there was the morning meal to be cooked and then a trudge of ten kilometers to get water and another ten to come back home laden with four pots filled to the brim, supported one on top of the other. Then the endless m...