But Korok went to bed very afraid, and felt exactly like mustard seeds when they are thrown into a mortar and the pestle comes down on them. Between the government, and Patnaik’s lathis, and the Red Brothers, there was just no peace, not even when he was sitting at home. He could not sleep well at all. Mainly because of his worries, but also because the blanket was just not warm enough. He really wished he had a dog which could snuggle up with him, but he couldn’t expect the goat to do this, and anyway her horns would surely make some more holes in his blanket, and his father, whenever he returned home, might get very angry.

The English year ended, and sometime after the first week of the new year came the first day of the month of Pausa. On the Tuesday after the first new moon night, there was the Sulia Jatra festival at Khairguda village in the district. It was a Kondh tribal festival, but Gond families too would visit, traditionally, and Korok had gone there every year with his father.

This time the Gonds weren’t sure about celebrations of any kind. Their own festivals had been small, and there wasn’t much rejoicing. A few people, those with small children, went to Khairguda, but the mahji stayed at home and stared into the distance, and Korok walked around in the hills and did not talk to anyone. He would stay at the hanal kot till evening fell and it became cold.

Far away, in Delhi, many things were happening. Jadob, who had set the events in motion after Korok’s idea, now sat and watched it all unfold, and every once in a while he would wonder what he would tell the mahji and Korok.

After he returned to his village all those years ago, Jadob had spent all his time working for his people. Most of his work involved talking to government officials, bureaucrats like Behera and his minions, or answering questions by officers like Patnaik and his minions, who always suspected people like Jadob of being troublemakers. Far from it. Jadob and people like him were necessary for villages like Deogan and its neighbours. There were very few educated young people who could explain to the villagers what the government had in mind.

Over the years, Jadob had lost his faith in the government. More and more, he would tell villagers to solve their problems themselves, such as the flooding by the river Tel, or getting enough water to irrigate their fields in the dry season. The government, Jadob had realised like the mahji before him, was too vast to worry about a small people like the Gonds of Deogan. Like a distant god, or an absentminded giant, asking the government for help would bring more harm than good, is what Jadob thought.