Karma And the Kid


I need to write, to put it out of my system, my thoughts, my memory, my guilt.  The image is stuck in the brain. It refuses to budge. It makes me impossible to reason, and instead probes me to question the law of Karma – what you give comes back.

I first noticed the father, with a stick in one hand, a donation book in the other, seeking charity. Took me a while to realize that his world was dark. Seconds later , I noticed his life partner, bound to him in state and space. However, their kid wasn’t. A lad of 4 years, he was their eyes to the world. Clung to his mom’s pallu, he visited each and every shop diligently,  in the hope of monetary assistance for a decent living. However, he stopped in front of the toy shop. Oblivious to the fact that his parents have moved on, he stooped low to have a look at the price of the bi-cycle kept in the premises. I froze and went blank, not knowing what to do. 2 voices brought me back to reality – the kid’s mom urging him to follow her and the shopkeeper shooing the boy away from his object of interest. Both were in tandem, as if , reminding the kid about the reality of his current existence. As the kid moved on with 0 reluctance and -1 annoyance, the next shopkeeper gifted him a packet of chips. The kid jumped and leaped in joy.  And my happiness knew no bounds.

I just hope the law of Karma applies to each and every character of my narration.

Try to sight the goodness, if you want to save yourself from the atrocities of this dark world.

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