Free The Hope of Shridula by Kay Marshall Strom

her mother and ran to stand beside her father. Zia opened her mouth to protest, but instead she, too, stepped up beside them.
    Boban Joseph shook with rage. "You think I will not beat you? I most certainly will!" he bellowed. "Raise the whip!"
    But before the Sudra could follow the landlord's orders, Dinkar rushed up and stood beside Ashish. The young man with the old man's face pushed forward, too. Then Jinraj did the same, and the entire group of young men followed him.
    The Sudra servant, forced to step back to make room for the growing crowd, looked about him in confusion. He turned to Boban Joseph, but all the landlord did was growl and sputter and grind his teeth in frustrated fury.
    More laborers pushed forward, forcing the Sudra to step back still further.
    Boban Joseph turned from the Sudra to the growing crowd, his look of rage fast deteriorating into desperation tinged with fear.
    The Sudra had already raised his whip, but he hesitated, still holding it high in the air. Finally he dropped his arm and let the whip fall.
    "Come!" Boban Joseph called abruptly. "We have taught the thief his lesson. We are finished here."
    Ashish didn't dare to move.
    The Sudra hurried into the cart and lashed wildly at the horse. The poor animal leapt forward and bolted up the pathway toward home. Boban Joseph did not look back.
    Jyoti pushed forward to tend to her son. The laborers— looking blankly at each other—turned in silence toward their huts.
    "What happened?" Dinkar asked Ashish when they were alone.
    "Civil disobedience," Ashish said. "Like the Mahatma teaches."
     

     
    Although Mohandas Gandhi had been irritating the British Empire for longer than Ashish had lived, Ashish had never heard the leader's name before he spent the day in the dirt beside Boban Joseph's veranda. Sitting perfectly still, remaining absolutely quiet, he learned much about the Mahatma's words and methods that afternoon. The high caste men had talked on that day, ignoring the Untouchable's presence. As far as they were concerned, he was not even there. Such a one as he was of no more consequence to them than a fly or a mouse.
    Years before, when the Communist Party of Malabar had gone through the countryside recruiting members, they came at night to the settlement and whispered to the workers who sat around their cooking fires. Ashish's father, Virat, perked up his Untouchable ears and listened to their message: Everyone will be treated the same. No one shall be privileged over any other. No more caste. Strongly drawn to that message, Virat joined the party.
    When Ashish's voice changed from that of a boy to that of a man, he had followed his father and received his own party membership card. It didn't take long, however, for him to see that Untouchables still fell victim to attacks by the upper castes. And, as always, most of those attacks went unreported. Their landowner and his son were the worst offenders of all.
    "We must force them to stop!" Ashish had railed to his father back then.
    But Virat simply said, "Be patient, my son. It will take time."
    The Communists spoke long and loud, but they did not speak for the Untouchables. So Ashish tore up his membership card and turned his back on the Communist Party.
     

     
    Nihal Amos, Saji Stephen's second son, had no idea that anyone in the settlement had the least knowledge of the Communist Party. Not only did he himself carry a membership card, but he was active in the organization and totally dedicated to it. So quickly was he moving up the ranks that he was slated to soon be awarded a place of leadership.
    "You, a Communist?" his uncle Boban Joseph mocked him. "How can that be? You are from a Christian family!"
    "I am a Christian Communist," Nihal Amos huffed.
    Which was not as unlikely as it sounded. The area's Marxist rulers were unusual among Communists in that they did not condemn religion. On the contrary, they emphasized the areas on which they agreed with religious leaders. Over caste