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Sarat C. Neog


Frail little Sonya sat sobbing in the corner of the room. She was hungry. Her mother Tapashya sat near her, saying soothingly, “Do not cry. Don’t you know it is dusk? This is the time when God visits homes of people to know their misery. If you keep crying, God will be annoyed.” Her mother’s words stopped the little girl’s crying. She closed her eyes in prayer. “Oh, God! Please bring some cookies to our house. I’m so hungry. And father is dead. We don’t have a morsel of food in the kitchen. Please come, please, please.” Tapashya heard hurried footsteps. She wondered who would come at this hour. She came out of her house and saw a tall figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the evening light. She could not immediately recognize him. “I’m Deben Mandal,” said the person. “Here, take this bag. I have brought some food.” Tapashya…