The icy water trickled down the tap. I washed my face quickly before the water runs out. I tried to smile at myself in the mirror, but could not in that utter gloominess.
Amma, I could not look, and I did not want to, lest the smile fades away.
Somewhere in the house, the tiny candle illuminated my sister’s forehead. You sat beside her, as she curled up herself under the blanket, sobbing in pain. I wore the chappal you gave me last year on my seventh birthday. Abba was screaming, threatening me to come quickly or he would leave me .I wished to embrace you, to touch your cold hands. But, I dashed out.
Amma, I could not, oh I so wanted to.
There was a colossal mass of people. It was an experience of lifetime. I reminisced the time when we came here once. My sister and I had ice-lollies as you sat beside abba with all lovely and attractive smiles. I wish we had the time machine and reverse it to the good old days.
But Amma we are not so fortunate, the time is running out, against our wish.
Abba raised me up on his shoulder to cheer the leader. I saw really dazzling, hopeful and gleeful faces. Suddenly there was a conflagration and the world fell into silence. The next moment it was filled with hue and cry.
Amma, I searched around for father, but I did not find him.
I struggled to wail and scream. But the stone in my throat wouldn’t sink down. There were limbs and blood around me. Flames were raging around me. I was afraid the men in uniform would throw me in the ambulance. I was sprinting, but there was no escape. My feet declined and I fell to the ground. I was convulsing due to excruciating pain. In that icy night, my body was scorched, alas frozen.
Amma, I could not come home, and maybe I didn’t want to……
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