To his right was a small window through which you could see the barren village farms. The window’s iron railings were twisted. ‘One night someone broke the wooden door of the window, bent those railings and entered this room. They stole one-and-a-half sacks of rice,’ the principal said. How desperate the thief must have been to steal rice meant for children, I thought. Everyone in the room was vocal about the many ways in which the government and its indifferent bureaucracy had been snatching what should rightfully have come to the children of Hridaychak. The government is so distant,
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