afterthatwhathappened?

As the bullock cart wheels kept on whirling, its screaking sound created eeriness in the vicinity. But still Tatya was poker-faced. It was one of those darkest hours, when even the nocturnal creatures would like to stay back and recline at their dwelling place. The breeze was nippy and chilly, so he covered himself with a blanket that was torn at some places, making only his fearsome beady black eyes with yellowish sclera, visible. The street lights that were erected on the edge of the road merely existed, as only one or two lit up, that too at the farther corners of the road. His jet black colour and white colour gelded bulls were taking the air with their own pace. While moving their heads left-right, they showed a bovine apathy owing to the yoke’s weight on their neck. Occasionally, Tatya used to take out his pouch, which was tucked in his faded blue coloured half pant, filled with a pack of beedis . Puffing a beedi or two, he used to utter chuck-chuck sound, so as to ...