Shock

Lakshmi just came in to my study, and said that last night she and her three children were watching TV. There was something wrong with the picture, so the younger boy got up and jiggled the wire. He got a shock and fell back, still holding the wire. Landed on the older boy, who also got a shock. They both fell back on Lakshmi. Luckily, her daughter was sitting to one side, on a wooden bench. She got up, grabbed a stick, and knocked the wire away from them. If she hadn't, if she had also been caught in the current, the whole family would have died.

It rained yesterday, and the wiring in their flimsy house must have gotten soaked. Lakshmi turned off the main switch as soon as they got free, and this morning someone will come and try to fix it.

Lakshmi, a widow, is very afraid of dying and leaving her children with no one to take care of them. The oldest one started working last year, but he's just an apprentice welder, so he doesn't make much. The other two are still in school. She rubbed her shoulder, which is still aching from the shock.

I'm writing this from the Treasure House, too much of everything.

I just saw this on Wood s Lot:

Do not wait for the last judgment. It takes place every day.
- Albert Camus

which reminds me of an Urdu couplet -- I don't know who wrote it, I just liked it and jotted it down (I may have made some mistake here -- if you know Urdu, correct me!). The word but, statue, which I translated as 'cruel one,' usually refers to the cruel beloved:

un buto~ ne daale hai vasvase ke dilo~ se khof-e-khuda gaya
voh pade hai roz qayamate~ ke khayal-e-roz-e-jazaa gaya

those cruel ones have cast me into such doubt
that I forgot to fear god
every day is such a day of judgment
that I forgot the final judgment