Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya Page A

result.
    "Two more mouths to feed," she complained. "Only one of my three sons had the sense to go back. I do not know what is to become of us, for the land cannot sustain us all. So much for reading and writing," she said, accusing me with eye and finger. "Did I not say no good would come of it? Now look into what mess your sons have led us!"
    "Ay, and out of it to better things," said Thambi, with flint in his voice, "but for spawn like yours who have sold themselves cheaper than dirt."
    "You will speak with respect," I cried, "or else --"
    Then Nathan interrupted, so violently that I started.
    "Enough!" he shouted. "More than enough has been said. Our children must act as they choose to, not for our benefit. Is it not enough that they suffer?"
    The veins on his forehead were bulging. I had never seen him so angry before. Kali went away. Then the men went too, father and sons, leaving me alone who had no understanding.
    Once more Nathan was sole provider for us, and we forgot the good living we had known. The reserves of grain I had put by began to dwindle despite my care. Fortunately, harvest time was near, and I consoled myself with the thought of it.
    Arjun and Thambi began to frequent the town more and more, coming and going at all hours with no word as to what they did, and I suffered it in silence, for I knew they had no money to lead them to harm, and I had no cure for the restlessness that afflicted them.
    One morning I was laying out some clothes to dry in the sun when Selvam came running in, his face hot and excited.
    "Tom-toms are beating," he announced breathlessly. "The town is full of drummers, they are calling for men."
    I stopped my work and gazed at him, and all at once my heart turned over. It was as if a scene long past were occurring again -- this was not Selvam but Arjun, and he was telling me not of drummers but of bullock carts bringing the tannery to us brick by brick. I passed my hand over my eyes, feeling slightly giddy.
    "Come and see, come quickly," the boy was saying, eager and unnoticing. The others crowded round and he repeated his story with relish. He had roused his brothers' interest and I was forgotten.
    When they had gone -- a triumphant Selvam in the van -- and the place was quiet, I did indeed hear the drums, muffled and distant, insistently calling. Well, I thought, if it concerns me I shall hear soon enough, and if not I shall have saved myself a walk. . . . So with ordinary things I sought to still my qualms.
    "They are calling for labourers," Arjun said, not looking up. "It would be a good opportunity for us."
    Only Arjun and Thambi, who had stayed in the town until nightfall, and my husband and I, were up. The others were long asleep.
    "They are paying well," Arjun resumed. "It would be good for us to work again. It is not fitting that men should corrupt themselves in hunger and idleness."
    "I have heard," said Nathan, "that labour is required of you not here, but in the island of Ceylon."
    "Yes. It is work in the tea plantations of Ceylon."
    "You may not have the knowledge for such work."
    "They will teach us -- they have said so."
    "Who will pay for the journey -- is it not one of many hundreds of miles?"
    "True. They will arrange everything, and everything will be paid for."
    So Nathan was silenced, for he saw they were men and had made their decisions, but how could I let them go, who were my own flesh and blood, without a fight?
    "Promises," I said. "Fair words. Who is to see if they are honoured? What is to happen if they are broken?"
    "They need labour," Arjun said drily. "Self-interest alone will keep these promises."
    "What is it that calls you?" I said. "Is it gold? Although we have none, remember that money is not everything."
    "It is an important part of living," he answered me patiently, "and work is another. There is nothing for us here, for we have neither the means to buy land nor to rent it. Would you have us wasting our youth chafing against things we cannot