He rides me as he vanquishes the opposition. He rides me, lifting the princess in one swoosh and they ride off together.
He rides me towards the cliff & pulls my reigns so I stand up on my hind legs & it makes him look a victorious king.
I slant too much. They slip. Oops!
—Mihir S. Kamdar
She was screaming, he could hear her call out to God. He wanted to help her, but there was nothing he could do. The screaming would stop when they were done. He tried to get a glimpse of her, but she was surrounded by them. He knew he was partially responsible for this, the thought put a smile on his face. Soon the screaming stopped and it was replaced by a cry. A cry he had been waiting to hear from the past 9 months.
I was returning home in a local bus at around 6pm after an over productive day at work. I was exhausted and had almost no energy in my legs but managed to get a seat in the bus. The bus was bursting with kids, women and men. I noticed 2 kids, 8 or 9 year old who were making fun of each other. Although I had thoughts of giving my seat to the kid, my tiredness overpowered my sympathy towards them for nearly 4 or 5 bus stops. Just 1 or 2 stops before my destination. I poked a kid who stood beside me and pointed to my seat. He suddenly pushed me aside and pulled the hands of an old man behind me to offer the seat to him. I felt ashamed of myself when I saw what the little kid did. Sometimes it takes a kid to show you what kindness truly is, and it took an 8 year old to open my eyes.
A grenade exploded just 10 feet behind him but he kept moving, firing bullets blindly. Just when he was about to cross the wire, another grenade exploded in front of him.
The Major woke up with a start. These nightmares had not left him since he returned from the war. But tonight, he decided to write all about his experiences. He got up to look for a pen and a pad and located both on his study table. And as he was about to lift the pen, reality struck. He had lost both his arms to the cruel war.
Every day he would go to the park and look at the kids playing. The joy on their innocent faces gave him comfort. One day he noticed one of the kids had a bruise above his left eye. He felt anger welling up within him. He wondered what kind of monster does that to a child. He never saw the kid again, as he thought about him, he unconsciously scratched the scar above his left eye.
He loved her, but didn’t say it too often.
She loved him and always openly expressed it.
He always ignored her around his friends.
She showed him off in front of hers
He took her for granted all the time.
She loved him nevertheless.
And that’s how all mothers are.