My next book /excerpts

I like to elaborate the fibers in big fragments, my next book is fiction, and I have completed about 40,000 words. Feeling nice I have completed half journey and would like to get beta readers. New characters are spilling up, and I would like to paint them in multiple layers. A few fragments have been published in the magazine,  would like to mention The mathematics of Mangoes, in which the background is weaved around feudal thoughts, victims are women.

Few excerpts —-

look! the creeping snails have triggered

their feet and forgot

about the counting of crippled pearls.

the tentacles on the moving island

are insular now.

It appeared that something strange and complicated algebra they had to solve. The lifeless things were awaiting to be distributed, and the lived ones lost their patience. The elder brother had one daughter and five sons, while the younger’s had two daughters and four sons. Only gender was split in contrast, but the overall counting was the same. The elder’s daughter was round and fatty, and her chubby cheeks always seemed to churn the stories. Even in her youth, she was a bit lame due to arthritis in the knee joint, and her legs always looked lagging. She liked to sit in squat mode; mother and daughter munched betel leaves together. Mother flutters in the incessant gossip of the daughter, as she is such a spicy narrator that it is difficult for the old woman to disown her. It was the daughter’s duty to clean, wipe and fill the betel leaf box.  She made quid by wrapping areca nut, slaked lime and catechu in a betel leaf. The days after the mango arrival got tensed, and the betel juice stuck like the red brook on both sides of mouth angles, forbidden to flow. 

The elder brother’s wife poked her daughter, “tomorrow, the mango distribution was going to happen; as your uncle had called up the orchard guard, he would bring his Taraju ( weighing scale ). Yes, I know, mother, don’t be tense, I would be there,” the daughter was alerted. Still, her mother was not entirely confident about her wittinesses. She told in a thin thread of rebuke, “ last  year a big fuss was created due to your laziness, they got a major bulk of mangoes, while we remained minors, this year it should not be happens, they are cunning enough, especially the both daughters. She was referring to the daughters of younger brother’s.

“Don't worry mother, I would be careful, “ the daughter replied, she seemed fully confident, speaking in a clear voice, “I know they stole away a lot of mangoes, I had myself seen mangoes rolling in the sky in bunches. They were soon hidden and even after a massive search, everything looked in vain. I didn’t know where they hid them, perhaps they were shifted in the mattamore. It was father’s fault that he gave the mattomore room to them, She sighed in the heavy breath. 

Actually the younger brother’s wife and her daughter's room was tucked with a cellar. The opposite side had no such room. 

The twitching around the podgy mouth got brisk!

“Look, a mere blank glimpse would be enough for cunning creatures, so eyes have to keep wide open”

Both mother and daughter were strengthening their strategy; perhaps the same was happening on the counterpart side.

Finally the day of counting and dividation came, both women looked sangfroid only at surface, soon anybody could catch the it was forceful, the underlying craziness and fear popped up. The man who came along with the  weighing machine was lean and thin, he had worn a Dhoti and Kurta. His cheeks were shrunken inwards, letting the maxilla prominent enough to push the eyes in the orbit. But soon it was evident that eyes were not caged, but like a skilled hunter could pick up each mango, nothing could escape them. He started his work, and his right hand picked the middle thread of the beam and both pan hanging on the both ends hung in the air. In the right weighing pan was weight and in the left mangoes. His voice was thin like thread and it went on in rhythm, halting intermittently and repeating the last countdown, until the new bulk of mangoes replaced the previous one in the pan. But women were still apprehensive and fixed their eyes on the beam lest it tilt.