No Pain Like This Body Read Free

riceland, not far from where Ma was washing clothes. The riceland began about ten feet away from the tub. Balraj was trying hard to catch the tadpoles; they were black black, black like rain clouds, and they were moving like spots of tar in the water. Balraj was the oldest. He was twelve. He tried hard like hell to catch the tad­poles and put them in the ricebag. But the tadpoles were smart, smarter than Balraj. They behaved like drunk people in the water; they were giving a lot of trouble; they kept running and running in the water; they had no legs, but they were run­ning in the muddy water; just running and running away from Balraj. Balraj wanted to catch the tadpoles so he kept on running behind them; and they knew that Balraj wanted to put them inside the ricebag, so they ran all the time away from him.
    Sunaree was ten years old. She was dragging the ricebag in the water, just behind Balraj. But Balraj was getting fed up. The tadpoles were hiding away from him.
    Rama and Panday were eight years old. Twins. They were naked. Both of them were running behind Sunaree. As they ran they kicked up water and soiled Sunaree’s dress. Sunaree turned around. She was vexed and her face looked like a rain cloud. Then she said, “Now Rama and Panday behave all you self!”
    While she was talking to Rama and Panday, Balraj dragged his hands in the water to catch the tadpoles. He lifted his hands out. There were about ten tadpoles inside them. They were trying to jump out of his hands and go back into the water. Balraj turned around to put the tadpoles in the ricebag. Sunaree was not paying attention; she had the bag in the water, and she was talking to Rama and Panday. Balraj got mad; he bawled out, “Sunaree I goin to kick you! Where de bag is?”
    â€œDe bag in de wadder bredder.”
    â€œWot it doin in de wadder?”
    â€œIt not doin notten.”
    â€œWell pick up dat bag and open it.”
    â€œOright.”
    Sunaree had a great love for the tadpoles also, so she opened the ricebag. Balraj dropped the crappo fish inside the ricebag, and bent down in the water again.
    Rama and Panday walked up to Sunaree. They were not walking easy as a fly walks; they were walking like mules; feet went splunk splunk splunk in the water.
    â€œRama and Panday all you walk easier dan dat,” Balraj told them. “Dese crappo fish smart like hell. Wen dey hear all you walkin hard hard dey go run away.”
    Rama and Panday didn’t listen to Balraj. They held on to the ricebag. They opened it and peeped inside the bag. Their eyes were bulging like ripe guavas; they were trying hard to see the tadpoles that were in the bag, but they could not see anything. Rama sucked his teeth and said, “I want to go in dat bag.”
    Sunaree told him he couldn’t go inside the ricebag, because he was going to kill the tadpoles.
    â€œI want to go in dat bag too,” Panday declared.
    â€œBut I say all you cant go in dat bag. All you goin to kill de fish.”
    Rama and Panday tried to pull the ricebag away from Sunaree. She was talking and begging them not to pull the bag; crying and begging them not to pull it away; crying not for her sake but for the tadpoles’ sake, because she wanted the crappo fish to live. But Rama and Panday pulled the bag away from her.
    Balraj walked in the water. His back was bent as if he was an old man. He knew that the tadpoles were smart, so he watched them carefully. There were some crappo fish near the bamboo grass; there were hundreds of them; they were danc­ing and moving like a patch of blackness. Balraj walked quietly. He moved closer to them; they did not see him, because they were dancing in a group. He bent down. Slowly. He stretched his hands. Then wash wash his hands swept through the water. He turned around to put the tadpoles in the ricebag. Balraj just turned around and dropped them inside the bag. But there was no bag; the tadpoles fell back into the