We hear about this on the radio sometimes, they talk about smoked meats and salt tea. But in my jhoom field, the real burn is different—it’s from the home-made rice liquor we drink to ease the ache of a long day and the chill in the bones. We can’t afford what they warn about in cities; we eat what we grow. Still, I know two uncles who are gone from a pain in the throat, and neither ever saw a doctor in a town.
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