mid winter Winter flowers are falling. Nepalgunj has slowed down by wearing a quilt of anger. The sun's rays are unable to reach the earth as they pierce the sky blocked by thick fog. It is midday, but the narrow streets are shrouded in semi-darkness.

At the intersections, you can see rickshaws, autorickshaws and motorcycles with yellow headlights. Fatfoot people are putting their hands in their arms and are desperately missing their destination. It is difficult to determine even the shape before the eyes. Roads, courtyards and roofs of houses are wet like rain. The neem plants, bathed in frost, have remained standing throughout the winter. They are lying on their skins, loose quadrupeds. A cold wave has been going on in the city for a week to ten days.

After Ramachal's death, there is no rest in his house. A three-year-old son is also sick. The cry of a sick child is spreading from inside the Bukuro house about Jingati. The sad scream collided with the cold fog outside the house and faded away. The old mother-in-law's dry and wrinkled son has been crying since morning as usual. 

Baburi is heating the stove. Ektamasa is breathing, but her breath has no power to generate fire, because her stomach is empty. He can't remember the last time he ate so much that he had an upset stomach. The many fears created in him have already experienced Baburi's hunger. The heat has not settled in the cold ghur, the thick clouds of smoke are piercing the roof of the shingle and rising to the sky. 

It's been years since the old mother-in-law's eyes were closed. The anthropomorphism of the grandson is in the lap. Clear face is not in his eyes, physical touch and feel is dearest grandson. The last memory of the dead son is now stuck in the sick grandson. However, the grandson could not gather the strength to run beyond the touch of the blind boy. 

Just two years ago, after the corona infection took away all the fun of Ramachal, the sky came and sat on Baburi's head. The hands could not learn skills, nor could the eyes see any letters. There is no property, there is no need to count the dream when there is no property. Now Baburi doesn't like evening and morning because he can't gather food for his hungry stomach. 

The son who was born with the duty of protecting the seed of the man in the house is sick since birth. Baburi remembers that the husband said to Baburi before he died, "Hum marjaw tabo wetauva kai bacheo, chahe je bachaso." What do you do to the child? You are sick.' 

Alas, if the son dies, Baburi is not allowed to live in this world? When you see the dry face of your son, the husband's harsh words ring in your ears. Which mother in the world can wish for the death of her own child!

Ranahama Baburi, who saved the life of the same sick son for the past two years, did not do it until KK. However, the child's body was not filled with flesh. Instead, it seems to be disappearing inside the fabric, like dry wood. Baburi's eyes are disturbed by seeing the bones in his palm even when he lifts it.

Ram Achal suddenly left the middle of the struggle with his wife carrying a weight heavier than his strength. Baburi has not had time to go to Caring for a few days. How to leave a son who is getting more and more depressed? Grief is eating her heart, but Suko is not ready to take her to the hospital. It costs 20 rupees just to register the name. Baburi had brought her son who was taken to the hospital yesterday after not having the same money. The wheat flour mixed with chakhla had also run out yesterday. 

Then the fire of the recently lit Ghur suddenly caught Baburi's mind. He didn't want to stay inside the house without food. The empty bag of flour was thrown on the side of the stove. Wearing an old chadar spread on straw, she left the market in a hurry. The old Chedar could not withstand the cold, his body became stiff. 

'Where have you been?' Before Baburi could offer darshan, the sahuji of the shop licked the red tongue, 'It has been two days since the sugar ran out, the customers are wandering, you are missing, at least carry your phone.' 

Sahu did not see Baburi's dark eyes. 

Sheetalahar is unable to come out, there is no money to support her son who is neither dead nor alive, the food in the house has also run out, Baburi could not guess which problem to tell first. Until then, the shopkeeper hurriedly put a piece of paper in Baburi's hand, "Tan rupaidya gaihal, Phatak se, come with two lumbers of sugar and ten packets of soda and two dozen of washing soap." 

The moneylender put his hand on his throat and took out the money. Baburi stood still. Suddenly Baburi's ears were filled with his son's cry. The sight of the burning stove and the empty bag caught his eye. Baburi shivered badly as if rising from the entire cold feet of Madhesh. In a moment, he disappeared from his memory, that she had come to Sahu's shop to settle the burden of grief!

'Hey Baburia, don't hurry.' 

Baburi looked at Sahu with a start. The plan suffocated in the brain was to cross all the knots and from there rapidly to the south. Baburi looked at the money in her hand a thousand times when she got into the autorickshaw and reached the Rupaidiha border gate. However, she couldn't muster up the courage to use money in an alternative way, because morality is not something that dies easily. 

The body is wet with dew. Dew drops appear on the eyelids, stay for a while and fall. Lips turned blue. The further south Baburi goes, the louder his son's screams ring in his ears. The hands fall to their own breasts in remembrance of the sick child. The misty sky comes to the eyes with the touch of the false breasts. Baburi looks shabby on the border of Jamunah. 

'Baburia, O Baburia? Where have you been disappearing all these days?' Sajni called out. She has already picked up two sacks of goods. 

Other than those who pick up goods in the carrying, what other customers come to Rupaidiha market in such a cold weather? However, Sajni has a good relationship with the police, he says, there is no police he does not know, in Rupaidia and Jamunah. Leaving all the answers for Sajni in an artificial smile, Baburi entered somewhere through a narrow door. Rupaydia market is not so crowded today. The crowd is from the cold weather, which seems intent on covering Baburi's heart. 

Baburi is mad. Handcarts are moving faster than ever. Suddenly Mangli came to stand in front of her. Leaning close, she asked quietly, "Did you see the Thasulle police sitting at the checking today?" 

'Well, I didn't remember.' Baburi's eyes seemed to remember something. 

How smart you are! Thasulle, who did not die, will haunt him even today, what should he do? Digdar left full of questions and Mangli also disappeared in the market for a moment. 

Baburi bought the goods according to the list recorded in the slip kept by the shopkeeper. All the goods were tied in one sack and carried on the head. Since there is not a lot of stuff, he has a deep hope in his heart that even if the Thasulle police meet him today, he will not be harassed that much. 

Bicycles, motorcycles enter Nepalgunj through interior roads, but the interior roads are not so easy when the snow is falling from the sky. There are no such roads nearby. Baburi doesn't even have time to walk a long way. 

After seeing a hull of the carrier in front of her, Baburi stopped for some time across the border. It's easy to overcrowded, or alone! Otherwise the police will be surprised. Sometimes it is not necessary to disappear all the stuff. 

There are hundreds of people who bring in the sea drop by drop from across the border. Every day there is a daily rush of smugglers who make small holes, open their heads, shells, bags and bicycles. From salted oil and soap to dishes, clothes and sacks of rice, the police do and cannot do anything other than the usual routine. In this way, the goods brought in from Caring are bought by the traders in the market and sold at retail. By taking advantage of the open borders, many have made an easy way to earn money. 

It wasn't long before Baburi started carrying. She is not a woman with the attitude to surprise the police, show greed and carry more and more things by cheating. 

But who will take care of the house after the death of the husband? Some shopkeepers at the grocery store sent them to the border for carrying, as it was an easy task. This has made it easier for Baburi to gather flour in the morning and evening. However, carrying is not as easy as you think. The goods ordered by the moneylender should be brought in after the eyes of the police have been hidden, bent and hidden. Bargaining happens when there is the same police, it is more difficult for Imai children. If the police confiscates the goods, their own investment also sinks. If it is a creditor's investment, it will be even more wasted. The moneylender does not leave, some of them still have to pay the moneylender's debt. Some of Baburi's friends have even damaged their homes. 

Even today, Baburi did not expect. 

Above the check post stands a burly man with a bushy moustache. Seeing his shadow, Baburi's heart sank. I don't know why he is afraid today more than ever. 

No woman knows Thasulle's real name, no woman has ever read Bardi's nameplate. However, Thasulle Habaldar says that all the women who walk in the caring know. Who gave such a name? How long has it been? No one knows that. The women used to say, 'If a tall, fair and middle-aged woman sits on the floor, she is a lost policeman.' Baburi had heard many times, 'Thasulle has harassed many women.'

'Humka Kachhu Nahi Pata.' Baburi cut her lips, slowly placed the sack on her head on the ground and showed a sad face. 

The woman used to say that behind Mangli's fair and hissing Mongolian face, there was a lot of trouble. He used to say, 'Mangli will leave whatever goods he brings, he is trying to cheat.' 

'How many truckloads of goods do you carry in a day?' Thesulle police muttered sarcastically.

'Gharai ke khar ba saap!' Baburi's heart was cut. 

This is the first answer the police give back no matter what they ask. Alas, all the goods carried like this are meant for Baburi's own house...! 

I know that. And what is this stuff? Which merchant's shop are you going to take?' Thasulle's voice became stronger, 'You are going to destroy Nepalgunj's market!'

'Where is your house?' 

'Beside the queen's lake, sap.'

'And what does Poi do?' Baburi suddenly stopped at the question of the police. He did not expect such a question. 

'Hamar marad ka gujar gail dui baris hoi gaya, sap.' Both of Baburi's eyes suddenly filled up. 

'Yes... !' There is no surprise in Thasulle's voice, not even a drop of sadness. Instead, there is a kind of greed attached to it. After looking at Baburi from head to toe for a while, he softened his voice and said, "What is your phone number?" Give me the number, I'll leave it.'

'Where do we poor people get mobile phones, Sap.' Baburi's body trembled.

'You think I don't know you? We all know where you will go and what you will do.' Reprimanded and tried to take it, "Now you will know one by one, what the cold prison is like." 

Baburi was auctioned. Thasulle could not bear the rebuke of the policeman and bit his lips. No police had done such a duty till date. Even the stove of the house that he lit in the morning has been etched in his mind till now. A cold wave has arrived to cover the entire cerato. The screams of the sick son are gradually fading away from the ears.

Immediately a new scooter came in front of Thasulle and stopped dead. Filled with fancy and raw fabric bags, the scooter. Lips smeared with red lipstick smiled inside the helmet glass, Thasulle's dark eyes suddenly sparkled.

'Hey, madam didn't feed you meat even tonight, how can you sir.'

'Our sir is very addicted to meat, now.'

'Ha ha ha ha...' 

Baburi saw Thasulle laughing for the first time, but how could Holi that woman fall in front of such a scary laugh? He lost his mind. His voice, which had been so rough recently, suddenly became elegant. He did not pay any attention to the things that the scooter was carrying, he was not even surprised. Because Baburi is used to many such scenes, but what is causing questions to form in her mind? 

'Saturday evening, don't you come,' said the scooter, taking the road to Nepalgunj. Thsulle's eyes followed until the scooter was lost in Hussu. 

approached Baburi again and asked, 'Where are you going to go home?' 

'Rani floor. "Houses to keep the chain of meat, evening. To arrange all arrangements. Ok? '& Nbsp;

hit the famous heads in the head of the family. Blood must have boosted to the brain directly. The body became the body. It was a knot on the forehead. What was trying to do, what anger was unreacted to hold on the head and put the way to the sheer answer. Founded in the foot, the black-stone road was also experienced her. & Nbsp; Is the opposite of the

Babar's father? Even if we have a form of rebellion, then he is the highest way to refuse? Every society is taught to be raised that the extent mankind is great, but who is being prevented to become great? & NBSP;

how to frigate it! The police may have been remembelling the approval of his command, and the famine suddenly reached the terror. The greatest weakness in the world is never the fear of the most weakness that is terror; didn't know. & Nbsp;

Husses is leafed and growing the amount of darkness. There is no shortage of cold even in the evening. Only more than the Ringarod of the queen, a little on a slightly. At the front of the flashed home, a motorcycle is stopped. & Nbsp;

reni deckoning fine domestic particles are waving in the air. The cold side times once again. The city has been tuned. Wet roads are completely deserted to the topper. Maybe the people have knew in the house. It is not difficult to imagine the city that is human, like the sky look at heaven, there is a place to escape the sun. Because there is no part of the presence. & Nbsp;

Chikari seems to be tired, his undeserved rhyme is chosen only just. Her's extent with the accumulated power of his feast and the grief. Don't know, the expression of Ramus is coming to the resolution of Ram in his brain or not. & Nbsp;