He was a rich farmer and owned a big farm. After his death, there was no one to look after the farms, my widowed mother and my young sister, Mansi. I ...new that IDidn’t have any choice but to return home and look after the things… And though I resented my decision, I left my adopted city and returned homeTherefore, for the last six months I had been doing what my father did for his whole life… Farming… Cultivating and harvesting. In the month of august, the sugarcane crop was ready… Still there. I stood, set a film into the new camera and took a shot, before I tore off the bow, ripped off the paper at the top of her upper body, me laughing, as it revealed my dear mother her body naked as the day she was born laying on her back, her hands tied together in front of her, a hood covering her head and blushes. WOW, she lay quietly chuckling to herself in a strangely muffled way, knowing me so well, knowing, though she couldn’t see me, that I would be stood open mouthed, overwhelmed, she. More

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