Shanta Shelke
Datarbai got up very carefully when she realised that her daughters were sleeping soundly. She took out Subhatai's letter. She tried to get more light from the lantern by pulling out its wick a bit. She wanted to answer the letter but was not able to do so. She was wondering how to write and moreover, what to write. She took the pen in her hand. She dipped the nib in the inkbottle. The blank paper was looking at her expectedly, the ink was getting dried up, and Datarbai….? She was just observing the dark corners one by one, blankly, wearily.


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