The fields are bursting with grain. Mother Nature's glowing yellow sari seems scarcely able to contain the bounty of Kalu Sheikh's couple of acres. Kalu Sheikh has a couple, his brother Moni Sheikh has one, and beyond these lie fields belonging to other villagers. Sidhu Morol's field adjoins Kalu's.
Kalu arrives and stands awhile by his fields. Then he slowly walks to his hut near the village center.
The bolts of the doors are tied with tough rope, just as they had left them. Distraught, Kalu looks around. His brother's house too is bolted and tied, just like his. Kalu sits down wearily on the porch. So have they not returned? He is very thirsty, and his head feels strange.
After resting awhile he suddenly thinks, perhaps they returned after all but have left on some errand. True, not a single footprint marks the dust at the doorstep. It doesn't look like anyone has been here for at least a month. But he doesn't want to think about that. Kalu stands up. If there is an earthenware pot in the house he will fill it, drink some water, and then go fetch them. Perhaps he can borrow a fistful of rice to cook.