‘Ah Chin, we too came like them,’ Ho Han said.

Ah Chin did not answer. He kept watching them.

‘We are not the only ones who have suffered. There are many people like us. Look, look carefully.’

The assistant manager arrived on horseback with two gunmen.

‘Move back, move back!’ The gunmen shooed the people away.

The labour agent, who had come with the assistant manager, busied himself getting the coolies organized. With the arrival of these coolies, their profits would soar. These bonded labourers were not independent like the local workers – they were almost slaves. They could be employed with very low wages and their upkeep would be very cheap.

Coolies from outside Assam had started pouring in. The new chapter of the coolie supply to Assam from different parts of British India had begun. The manager beamed with satisfaction.

The assistant manager came and sat happily in his chair. His work would start after the registration of the coolies was completed. He would make the single males in the group live together with the single females whether they were willing or not. This would save on money and space. And in the future, the coolie population would also increase. This system was being used in the other gardens.

A clerk with a thick logbook, quill pen and ink pot sat on a cane stool in front of a table to register the names and addresses of the newly arrived coolies. In the garden filled with the smell of freshly plucked tea leaves, a sombre dusk set in.

Nine

‘Hey Monglu! Are you dead? Aren’t you going out to work? Hurry up or else I’ll beat you till your skin peels off!’

It was morning. The cracked voice of Budhuwa sardar shattered the quiet of the Bilashpuria line in the coolie quarters. Everyone who belonged to the line started coming out of their rooms instantly. A fearful voice reverberated through the quarters in the labour line.

‘Hey Badhna, hey Raibari, hey Masiram! Hurry up, the demon has arrived!’

The number of coolie quarters had increased considerably. Now there were women and girl pluckers alongside the men. Young boys worked as cowherds or in the nurseries to collect seeds and young girls were also put to work in the nurseries. The men did everything, including plucking.

The workers picked up their tools and the baskets. Some of them tried to leave stealthily, evading the notice of the sardar. While the labour line rose to a clamour, Phulmati sat outside in the tiny courtyard, in the warmth of the sun.

‘Will you be able to go to work? Why are you sitting in the sun? Has your fever increased?’ asked Suhagmoni worriedly, on her way to work.

‘My head hurts, I’m cold. I don’t feel well at all.’

Placing her palm on Phulmati’s forehead, Suhagmoni cried out, ‘Oh my God, you are burning with fever! What will you do? The sardar is shouting!’

Before she could finish, the sardar arrived.