Sold by My Father’s Ghost / Chapter 8: The Salt Business and Distant Dreams
Sold by My Father’s Ghost

Sold by My Father’s Ghost

Author: Arjun Chopra

Chapter 8: The Salt Business and Distant Dreams

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With no farming, the spirit father, bored, dragged me to strip all the reeds in the village.

We went from field to field, gathering reeds while village kids followed, giggling and shouting. Old women shook their heads at our madness.

We found a dozen wild duck eggs, which I carefully cradled in my dupatta, dreaming of omelettes and salt.

Back home, he repeated the salt-making process. This time, I watched more closely, curiosity winning out. The fire, the smoke, the transformation—almost magical.

I tasted a little—it really was salty.

The tang surprised me. I grinned, amazed that such a thing could come from useless reeds.

Last time, when he treated my illness, he didn’t use Ma’s anklet, but this reed salt.

I realized the doctor’s fee came from this salt, not some hidden treasure. My respect for the wandering spirit grew a little.

“Beta, jab yeh bech dunga, naye kapde khareedenge, nautanki dekhenge, aur jo bachega usse ghoda-kharchi! Duniya ghoomenge, haha!”

His eyes danced with wild dreams. The idea of new clothes and a trip to the fair made my heart leap, even though I knew it was just talk.

I shook my head helplessly.

He must have a screw loose. Still, in a world of hunger, a little hope—even if crazy—felt good.

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