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Praniti Ahire

SALAAM BOMBAY


One day, Bheeva thought of Mumbai, a big, big city, the city of dreams, of rich, educated, and civilised people. There can't be untouchability there. He took a train to Mumbai, where his eldest married sister lived. From the railway station, he started for her house, which was a long way off. Midway, Bheeva felt tired. He went into a roadside tea stall and asked for a cup of tea in a frightened voice after sitting on a bench. The tea stall owner looked hard at him. He was suspicious.

Bheeva sweated. The owner barked, "What caste are you?"

It chilled Bheeva. He stammered, "M...M...Mahar!"

"Mahar! Lowly scum!! How dare you...?" He screamed and

violently pushed Bheeva off the bench into the gutter. The tea shop owner hissed from above, "That's where you belong, you untouchable Mahar filth!" Somehow Bheeva, alias Bheemrao, got out of the gutter and took the train back to Satara. He wept and sobbed all the way.

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