Ramesh · The Salt Road · Pulse Beat
Ramesh, the truck driver, sought her out that evening, with an air of unaccustomed delicacy. He was a big, slow, mild man of fifty, with a moustache like a broom and a habit of looking at his boots…
Ramesh, the truck driver, sought her out that evening, with an air of unaccustomed delicacy.
He was a big, slow, mild man of fifty, with a moustache like a broom and a habit of looking at his boots. "Ben," he said. "I don't know if I should say this."
"Say it."
"The man Sethi. He has been to the other families. Not just your father." He turned his cap in his hands. "He told them your father had already agreed. He told them the pans were closing at the end of the year. He offered each family a small sum, if they sign away their claim now."
"Their claim? They have no claim."
"They don't know that." Ramesh's voice was low. "They've been told that if the sale goes through, there is nothing, and that if they sign, they'll at least get something. Nineteen families have signed already."
Kavita felt a slow, cold anger. It was the first time in twenty years of working in compliance that she had felt it so clean. "Where are the papers?"
"With the lawyer."
"Ramesh," she said, rising. "Can you drive me to Bhuj tonight?"