The roll call was over. After giving the workers instructions, the municipal worker got on his bicycle and pedaled away. The shops had not opened for business yet. The weather must have kept the shopkeepers from getting to the market on time. Since it was still drizzling nonstop, there were generally very few people out and about.

The young man looked cautiously in either direction. Next to the water pump lay a pile of stones meant to be used for road repair. He picked up a stone from that pile, took aim with his left forefinger, and threw it at the tree. A dozen or so tamarind pods showered down. The children and the younger women workers rushed to pick them up. There were no pods left for the women who came after them. Now these women went to their husbands and made sweet entreaties. More of the men stepped forward to aim stones at the tree.

Until then, the children had refrained from aiming stones at the tree because they were afraid the manual scavengers might object and pick a fight. But now they joined in with abandon. The men and the big children threw stones at the tree, while the women workers and the skinny kids gathered the pods that fell. A new group of children arrived just then from Vadiveeswaram; they joined in the fun. The manual scavengers who had been standing off to the side also joined in. Tamarind fruits came showering down. Everyone gathered as much as they could hold. The children stuffed the fruits into their milk pots. The pile of stones by the wall had vanished without a trace. And the junction lay strewn with leaves, twigs, and stones.

“Police!” a mischievous boy shouted when they were least expecting it. The children scattered away, yelling, “Long live Mahatma Gandhi!” They ran two furlongs before they realized it was a hoax.

The troop of children reached the bishop’s palace an hour late that day.

The worker who was assigned to sweep under the tamarind tree did his work with extra care that Thursday. He swept most thoroughly. He even picked the stones up and piled them against the wall. When he found a national flag that had fallen down from one of the tree’s branches, he rolled it up and tucked it into his veshti, thinking it would be perfect for a shirt for the new baby.

When the overseer showed up, there was not a single pod or leaf or twig lying on the ground. He could not help but mentally praise the worker who had done such a thorough job. There were still workers left who took pride in their work!

6

6.