The Dream

“See kaki, what I made for the school project.”

“What is this dear?”

“Teacher told us to draw on the theme of my dream. This is my dream… our own home…with real walls and roofs that will not leak. We will have a garden in front of our home where you can plant roses and spend your whole day looking at them instead of going about cleaning other people’s homes like now.”

“Who will give us a home Hari? We are very poor” though she felt bad about squashing his enthusiasm, she told him the truth.

“No no, nobody will give us. I will finish school and find a good job. Then I will take care of you. Till then we will live here only.”

“Yes of course dear..” her eyes welled up as she hugged her nephew and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“Now you go sleep. You have to get up early in the morning and go to school.”

“Yes kaki.” He trotted off to the corner of their shanty, the only corner which did not leak when it rained.

He was too young and innocent to know that people like her could not afford to send their sons and nephews to school till they graduated, that at some point Hari would of his own accord drop school and join the workforce so that they could continue to have food at least once a day.

‘You are just like your mother, dreams in your eyes, your legs always itching to travel the world; but you too are born with a fate similar to mine, of poverty, of being unwanted. Dear God, please delay his heartbreak for as long as you can. Let his dreams light his path. Any happiness you’ve kept in store for me, please give him that too’ she murmured to herself.

Hema covered her nephew with an old torn dupatta so that he wouldn’t feel too cold and took another one and wrapped it tightly around her stomach so that she wouldn’t be hungry at night.

My friend Leo and I  are writing on the same theme for the AtoZ2015. The word for the alphabet H that we've chosen is Home. Thanks for stopping by and do let me know what you thought about my story before you hop away :) 
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Writing to me is therapy, it frightens and comforts at the same time. Liberates like nothing else. A book in my own name is a dream, but a bigger dream would be to write something that haunts the reader even after the last page is turned and the book is shut. I enjoy reading and music, spending time with family whilst battling my social awkwardness.

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