Eight Days, Rakesh Khairalia
[08-09-2006]
“It takes eight days to make a house.”
“Can't you do it in lesser time? The sooner it gets done, the better. There will be a roof over our heads and a place to rest. Then one will not feel reluctant to return home everyday.”
“It's a 12 m sq plot, I am a mason. My hands and feet and not machines. It would be good for me if the job could get completed in lesser time; then I could move to my next job.”
Eyes are trying to calibrate the measured plot of land from behind a veil, “Mistryji, how many bricks should I order?”
The mason paused, looked upwards, moved his head from left to right, looked at the four corners of the plot. His lips moved slowly.
“It will take 4000 bricks. If more are needed, then we will see.”
“And what about the roof?”
“It takes eight days to make a house.”
“Can't you do it in lesser time? The sooner it gets done, the better. There will be a roof over our heads and a place to rest. Then one will not feel reluctant to return home everyday.”
“It's a 12 m sq plot, I am a mason. My hands and feet and not machines. It would be good for me if the job could get completed in lesser time; then I could move to my next job.”
Eyes are trying to calibrate the measured plot of land from behind a veil, “Mistryji, how many bricks should I order?”
The mason paused, looked upwards, moved his head from left to right, looked at the four corners of the plot. His lips moved slowly.
“It will take 4000 bricks. If more are needed, then we will see.”
“And what about the roof?”
“You tell me how you want the roof.”
“We have cement sheets from before; lets make do with them.”
“Then consider your house made.”
Turning her head towards her husband, Rajkumar, who was standing quietly on one side, she said, “Arre, what about red sand and cement which will be needed!”
The mason detailed the expenses and left.
“What do we care if someone gets theirs made or not, or if they take an entire year to make theirs. You get ours made quickly.”
It was morning. A truck arrived through the dusty, unpaved road; it was laden with bricks. It stopped on a side at the mouth of the lane. Rajkumar gestured to the truck driver to drive in. The truck moved through the lane. The husband and wife smiled as they watched the approaching truck. They supervised the unloading of the bricks.
Then a tempo brought bags of cement. They were unloaded quickly.
Now they are waiting for the mason.
“You are late by half an hour, mistryji.” The mason had brought a bricklayer with him. He had on his person a bag with a trowel, an iron vessel for mixing, a gouge, a hammer. There was an inch tape in shirt pocket. A hoe rested on the bricklayer's shoulder, and he held a spade in his hand.
Rajkumar gave them both a glass of water to drink. Then they both stepped into the mat house and began to work out how deep they must dig to lay the foundation.
The first strike of the hoe was near the door.
From behind the veil, held in place between her teeth, those eyes began to imagine the completion of the construction of the walls, the windows, the roof. It was almost as if the house had already been made.
“We have cement sheets from before; lets make do with them.”
“Then consider your house made.”
Turning her head towards her husband, Rajkumar, who was standing quietly on one side, she said, “Arre, what about red sand and cement which will be needed!”
The mason detailed the expenses and left.
“What do we care if someone gets theirs made or not, or if they take an entire year to make theirs. You get ours made quickly.”
It was morning. A truck arrived through the dusty, unpaved road; it was laden with bricks. It stopped on a side at the mouth of the lane. Rajkumar gestured to the truck driver to drive in. The truck moved through the lane. The husband and wife smiled as they watched the approaching truck. They supervised the unloading of the bricks.
Then a tempo brought bags of cement. They were unloaded quickly.
Now they are waiting for the mason.
“You are late by half an hour, mistryji.” The mason had brought a bricklayer with him. He had on his person a bag with a trowel, an iron vessel for mixing, a gouge, a hammer. There was an inch tape in shirt pocket. A hoe rested on the bricklayer's shoulder, and he held a spade in his hand.
Rajkumar gave them both a glass of water to drink. Then they both stepped into the mat house and began to work out how deep they must dig to lay the foundation.
The first strike of the hoe was near the door.
From behind the veil, held in place between her teeth, those eyes began to imagine the completion of the construction of the walls, the windows, the roof. It was almost as if the house had already been made.
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