The sun dawns on the city early Monday morning but the city shall still continue to sleep. But in this city, deep in the alleys lies someone who has been awake through the night. A small boy lies looking up into the sky watching as the sky is set ablaze with the suns rays. He ponders for he knows that this is probably his last day on earth and wonders as to how and when he shall end his miserable existence for the last eight years.
He hears the call of the newspaper man as he goes on his rounds, tossing a mélange of the previous day within sheaves of paper on to the porches of the people who will probably never even read past the main important headline. Will they read through a small by line in the inside page which talks of a mud hut which was razed to the ground as a part of the city’s beautification project. They will never hear about a woman who with her heavily pregnant body ran about trying to convince the so called higher authority that this hut has to stay... that she and her younger son will have no place to call home if the authorities where to take away their roof. Where will she move to if they were not to show pity on her? She yelled, she screamed, she raved, she ranted. But all fell to deaf ears.
Pain struck her heart as she watched in faint, her home being made a part of land. Soon the pain moved to her swollen middle as she left the need of her infant to enter this world. She prayed that this would not happen, for she has seen where life will lead the infant to. Her son watches her weeping, for he cant stand to regard his mother in such agony. He watches as a river of emotions flow from her, her pain evident for there is no one to care for her agony. She withers and groans on the constructed road. The night reacts unkindly; it shows to none the miracle that was happening.
She lies breathing heavy. Her daughter lay still between her legs. The Lord heard her prayer, she smiles. Now she wishes that the prayer had included her son also. The boy sleeps hungry not knowing that in a matter of minutes he would be a loner in the city, in his life.
He cries a few soft sobs watching the only two entities that he could ever relate with. The city wakes up and moves on.
About Me
- 7-2
- Writing has never been a passion. Instead it merely flits in and out of my life as I keep suffering from a writer's block at most times. But then that shall by means never account for all the blocks that I face. But the biggest block that stops me from reaching out and taking life by the reins...is just me.
5 comments:
Hi Anju, the story has a moral for all of us. It made me feel that my worries are nothing compared to that small boy whose life is full of crisis, yet we find some of our small issues as some of the life's greatest hurdles and we often do not notice such people in a world that is ridden with turmoil.
This story also reminded me of the movie "Traffic Signal" in which we are introduced to a world which we often think doesn't exist. A world we see every single day at the traffic signals, but forget all about it the moment the signal light turns green.
Why does this happen? Is it because we live in cities? The world worships success, the bigger the better; buildings, cars, aeroplanes etc..Simplicity is lost.
What is it that most of us are seeking? What is it that each one of us wants? happiness, or gratification?
we should all give our minds and hearts to something which demands a great deal of earnestness, attention, thought, love, care etc..
We want to find a solution, a means, a method by which to resolve this burden of life, and so we never actually look at sorrow. We try to escape through myths, through images, through speculation; we hope to find some way to avoid this weight, to stay ahead of the wave of sorrow.
Sorrow has an ending, but it does not come about through any system or method.
Hey thanks for that!
Ive shifted my Photoblog and now am on better photo!
the link is on MY WEB PAGE on my profile!
keep reading!
U'v got a nice way of putting things across :). All the best for CAT!
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