Member-only story
A Village, and Wolves in Dogs’ Clothing
Also, men with guns
August 26: Deanna Bugalski 💋 asks: Write about a time you witnessed something as a bystander and crossed from watching to acting.
Thirty years ago, when I lived in India, I looked out of my apartment window one morning and saw two strangers with rifles standing below in the area where our kids usually played. Judging by their appearance, burly and mustachioed, I guessed the men had come from the nearby village.
As I watched, the men shouldered their guns and lowered their heads.
There was no time to think. Adrenaline pumping, I flew down two flights of stairs, rounded a corner of the building — and there they were.
“O, Bhau,” I called out. Bhau is a respectful term meaning “brother” in the Marathi.
The strangers lowered their guns and eyed me in surprise.
“Are you from the village?” I asked, still panting.
“And what if we’re from the village?” one of the men asked.
He was older than his companion, and looked quite prosperous if you went by his crisply starched and pressed snowy-white kurta (a long shirt) and the chunky gold chains that hung around his neck.
