Once upon a time there was a mango contractor, in a small district headquarter town in North India, in a region renowned for its delicious mangoes, whose name was Amir Khan. (Amir, by the way, also means ‘rich’ in Urdu, one of India’s eighteen major languages.)
Every year in early winter, when the mornings were heavy with fog, Amir Khan would bid at the local municipal office for a few mango trees. He would watch over the trees he got till the fruit ripened in the summer and then he would make money by selling his mango crop.
One year Amir felt particularly lucky, as he managed to get the special ...
There are approximately 1657 more words in this article.
To read the rest of this article, please buy this issue, or join the Resurgence Trust. As a member you will receive access to the complete archive of magazines from May 1966.
If you are already a member, please Sign in
