The village doctor

The man with a red dot looks down his eyes marginally to below the skin, the subterfuge where stomach humors show. The hakim is monkey man of a myth’s fame, making men swallow brown pellets for quick cures for stomach’s skin and mind maladies that make women shake like full-blown trees caught in a windstorm, their hair disheveled.

A middleman helps us wade crowds of men.Men wait outside to enter unreal iron cages,anterooms for an entry to the medicine man.The man would then bend his ears sideways to muttered tales about stomachs and devils and scrawl prescriptions in quick round letters that wriggled like earthworms in a new furrow.The middleman now takes us to growing rice,proud to show his rice dominions till sky-high.

We see more men coming for women’s ghosts .


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