Fiction Her client was pulling up his trousers when Eunuch Kishan called her from just outside the door. “Maithili, oh, you Maithili!” The eunuch’s voice sounded uncharacteristically frantic. He was a formidable creature. Kishan was the watchdog of the brothel, protector of the harlots, and the bringer of both good and bad tidings. His voice usually resounded menacingly in the musty corridors of the brothel. Now it sounded subdued, musty. Maithili opened the door and showed the client out while looking askance at Kishan. “Your father is gone,” he said without any ado. “Gone?” Maithili repeated the word as she took in the news. Kishan explained to her briefly that her father was lynched by a mob that called themselves gau rakshaks. Gau rakshak was a new addition to the country’s lingo. Maithili remembered as she changed her dress to go to her house in the village where her people would be waiting for the money she would bring for burying
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