Dear readers, here is a short story I wrote some time ago. Hope you like it!
“I can’t wait to go to Mumbai!’ he cried, jumping up and down around his mother, who didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. But of course, he didn’t let that bother him. He was too excited to care.
“Stop irritating me, Rama.” His mother was busy in the kitchen, her fingers expertly kneading the dough for the hot rotis (Indian bread) they were to have in a while. He plopped himself onto the platform, beside the dough bowl, desperate to get her attention.
“Do you know what I plan to do there?”, he asked, holding his mother’s face in his tiny hands, forcing her to look at him.
I refuse to let your eyes make a meal of my modesty.
I am a spirit born wild.
I set myself free…
It takes time
to learn to embrace sadness as
an inevitable part of life,
to stop looking over your shoulder,
dreading its strike,
to smile your way through
the hopeless tears,
knowing they are just a phase,
quite like those