I work for the Government of Kerala. My profession is selling lottery tickets. I belong to the proletariat. I can’t afford a shop. By morning six I am on the road with lottery tickets in my hand. I am very anxious as the day goes, since I have to sell all the tickets; if not I will have to bear the losses. I beg, plead and cajole prospective buyers. The margin of profit that I get is a pittance. My earnings for a day are measly three or four dollars. With that I have to raise my household. There are many a time when I have not been able to sell all my tickets. Sometimes I wish that I could win a prize from an unsold ticket. The Government of Kerala is milking cow and prosperous by the work of numerous sellers like me.