I hadn’t seen Kallu Mian for almost 16 years. A neighbour in my hometown of Mokama in Bihar, Mian looks old and tired now, but says he still goes out to till his field from time to time, as much to relieve the boredom as anything else.
Mokama is a tiny town located on the banks of the river Ganges. It’s a fertile area dotted with the residencies of the many landlords who sublet their fields to sharecroppers like Mian. On one side of the fields are the concrete houses of the relatively wealthy local businessmen and landlords who own the land where farmers like Mian grow seasonal vegetables including ‘little fingers’ (baby carrots), cauliflowers, tomatoes and potatoes.
Mian has been tending to the field by my old home since well before I was born. Too old to manage the two-acre plots of land, which are owned by a local feudal lord, he now has help from his two sons and their children.
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