A chance incident


It was like finding never land, or that chocolate house. It was impossible. And yet here it was, offering all the possibilities in the world.

He was just a boy. But he knew what was right and what wasn’t. Life however, had focused more on the grey.

His torn clothes and bare feet upon the scorching ground were not lost on the man. He saw that the boy was also aware of the fact, and was unsettled at his own appearance.

“Strange”, thought the man. It was very unusual for a boy of his background to care about how he looked.

“Strange”, thought the boy. “I’ve never been worried about how I looked before, but how I wish I’d worn my red shirt today and washed my face…” He ran his fingers in his hair in an attempt to straighten it out.

The man gave a tolerant smile and held out a hand, a businessman’s hand.

The boy turned around and ran… ran from the temptation.

He ran and ran till he reached what he had never called home… but where he came home to.

He saw his sister, if she was his sister, sleeping soundly in the corner, the bunch of red and yellow roses kept by her side. They would never be hers.

He wondered if he had made a mistake. Maybe where the man was thinking about taking her would be better than this life. And it was good money too, for both.

He went to the entrance again, this time the passage for his exit. He stepped out and wondered where the man would be right now.

She stirred. “Bhaiya?”

He looked back at her, smiled and walked back.

The man never got his deal.

“A chance incident, an innocent word or an absentminded, kind gesture can change a single decision; it can change the course of a life”

Advertisements

Tell me what you thought of this post.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s