The tale of a girl who rises to symbolize a revolution that Bengal forgot. The Matsanyaya revisited.
A Village in Bengal: 739 AD
The coat of water that had formed a smooth layer on the dirty utensils reflected the sunlight onto Gauri’s face. The silence of the lazy afternoon was broken only by the constant waves of the running water, and the birds that deemed fit to hum, undaunted by the stillness of the season. The mosquitoes had formed a swarm over her head. Cleaning the utensils had been her ritual since her mother died; her mother had done this throughout her life, at least from the time she knew her.