Pooja's School · The Salt Road · Pulse Beat
In March they started building the school. It was Kavita's idea, and the one she was proudest of. The cooperative had a small surplus. Mrs Dastur had found a trust that matched funds for village…
In March they started building the school.
It was Kavita's idea, and the one she was proudest of. The cooperative had a small surplus. Mrs Dastur had found a trust that matched funds for village schools, and a retired teacher in Bhuj was willing to come out three days a week. A single room, concrete block, a tin roof, thirty chairs, a blackboard painted by Pooja herself, with a border of salt-crystals in white chalk.
They opened it on a Monday, in the thick heat, with a ceremony that was mostly children shouting. Dhanji was brought in his chair to cut a ribbon. Pooja, in a school uniform two sizes too big, stood at the front with a sign she had made herself: Std. 9.
"What will you be?" Kavita asked her afterwards, in the shade of the new building.
"An engineer," said the girl at once. "For the pumps."
"Not a salt maker?"
"I'll also be a salt maker," said Pooja, with scorn. "It's not either-or, city-ben."
Kavita laughed until she had to sit down.