“
I grew up in extreme poverty,’ said Hari Das. ‘Like me, my father was a day labourer, who also did theyyam during the season. Today theyyam can bring in much
more than labouring – in a good season, after expenses, maybe Rs 10,000 a month – but in those days earnings were very meagre; maybe only Rs 10 and bag of rice
for a single night.
‘I lost my mother when I was three years old. She had some small injury – a piece of metal pierced her foot – but it went septic, and because she couldn’t afford a
real doctor she saw a man in the village instead. He must have made it worse. Certainly he failed to cure her. She died quite unnecessarily; at least that is what I feel.
”
”