Bikash

Oh we always called Bikash Babu that, and he didn’t care.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

Oh we always called Bikash Babu that, and he didn’t care.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

Oh we always called Bikash Babu that, and he didn’t care.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

Bikash Babu began to wear his dhoti a little higher, exposing a length of thin, smooth calf.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

Bikash Babu called the servant boy and the gardener to the verandah.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

My father even gave him money for years as a down payment, and Bikash Babu, your good grandfather, took it – otherwise how do you think your grandfather lived, eh?

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

Dear child, for years and years, my father had been telling your grandfather, ‘Bikash Babu, sell this monster house, it will swallow you up, sell it, and if you like, I will buy it!’

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

“There is nothing to think about,” Bikash Babu cut in.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

“What happened to that project you had, Bikash,” Ashwin Mullick interrupted, “of building a dam, or was it a dyke?”

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008

Bikash Babu did not need to touch the patches again to know they felt clammy, like a sick forehead, and cool like a dead one.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing Anuradha Roy 2008