Imagine how hard it is to break up the asphalt with a small pickaxe. It is not even a good one as it has seen so many asphalts and tortured itself to make the way better. Now imagine you’ve been doing it for several days. The sun gets hotter day by day. There is a heaviness on the body, aches you to rest for a while, makes you sweat like a boiling pot, itchy like a bug landing on you. The dust makes you feel more and more uncomfortable. Sometimes tiny sprinkles of water that wheeling down the black dust on your face. Irretrievable. The job is so unpleasant to imagine. This has been Madhav’s existence for almost a year. Madhav, his pickaxe and the pavement. I have seen him worried that his arms won’t know how to do anything else by the time he gets to stop. Will they remember to buy him colouring notebooks just to see his golden smile. But he never forgets to wear his bright smile in front of his child. Sometimes, he gets to use a shovel to heave the concrete into the circulatin...
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