Bayaji's new house had caught fire from all sides. It had suddenly flared up.
The womenfolk in the front verandah screamed in confusion. The guests stood up swiftly and began to pull out the women like a herd of cattle.

Bayaji was frantic. He ran around crying, 'My house, my storeyed house! It's on fire.
My enemy has taken revenge on me.' He entered the roaring flames, crying 'My House, my house.'

He climbed up, pulled the pictures of Buddha and Babasaheb from the walls and hurled them down. As he was about to come down the stairs, it crumbled down in flames. People pulled up water from a nearby well to put out the dreadful fire but it could not be easily contained.

'Bayaji, jump down, quick, jump,' people shouted. Women and children were crying and screaming.
Now that the staircase had collapsed, no one could go up.
Scorched in the flames, Bayaji ran around like a trapped creature, howling all the time, 'My house, my house!' And then the upper storey itself came down with a crash and along with it Bayaji, with a resounding thud. People pulled him out.

Bayaji was burnt all over. He was still wailing, ‘My house’, ‘my house’! Bayaji's children encircled him and cried their hearts out.

The guests were busy putting out the fire. All Bayaji's hopes had been reduced to ashes. What was the use of putting out the fire now?