Little friend

She must have been about 6. Some days when her school would have a holiday she would come with her mum. Her bright eyes and shy demeanour reminded me of a tiny sparrow as she sat in the corner of the kitchen following her mum with her eyes as she swept and mopped. 

Try as I might, I could never draw her out. She’d watch the kids sprawled around reading, colouring or simply bickering. But she’d never try to get friendly, always remaining aloof, seeming way older than her years. She’d look away quickly when she’d see me watching.

Often I wanted to tell her, ‘It’s okay.. take a look, join them….” but something held me back. Would she become too familiar, cheeky over time? Would it sound patronising of me?  And so I kept quiet and let her be.

One day her mum told me, “Didi can you get a warm jacket for my daughter? It’s her birthday next week and I don’t know where to find one.” She came that day dressed in her prettiest frock. After she’d tried out the jacket I handed her another packet… She tore open the cover and as a bunch of books tumbled out, for the first time acting her age, she whooped for joy. Her mum looked on startled at her reaction.
But not me, I knew. Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye. A book lover myself how could I not see her love for them?
Yes, I’d seen those curious interested looks she sneaked at the kids’ books. And that day I’d found her reading ‘Stories from Panchatantra’. So engrossed was she in putting the letters together that she didn’t hear me enter. When she did, she dropped the book with a startled, guilty look and vanished back to her post at the kitchen. 

Yes I saw all of that and I knew..

Happy reading little friend!
Linking to Write Tribe’s Wednesday promptSometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye’. The prompt is given by our very own  Kajal Kapur.

The treasure box

Mum, is such a spoil
sport and what an eagle eye she has! She always
appears as soon as things get interesting. “No”, “Stop”, “Don’t”.. that’s all I
hear. Tell me why would God make such fascinating things if he didn’t intend us to explore? The sand
in the garden, the electric sockets at home, the water in the bathroom pot, mums
makeup stuff – to touch, to taste, to feel – that’s what they’re for.

Today’s my chance. While mum gets that cake I’ll dive into this
shiny treasure box and see what I find.

Hah! this is will be fun.

********

Linking to Write Tribe’s 100 words on Saturday for the picture prompt (above) given by the wonderful Vidya Sury. Check out her blog here.

The magic collar

After ages the sun shone today. I’m just going to snooze the day
off.
Yawn!!! Life’s good.
Not long ago things were different. I’d hang around the shops near
here. My favourite haunt was the tiny library sandwiched between the fish shop
and the bakery. The lady who runs it is really sweet. She always had a smile
for me and a pat, fleas and all. Occasionally she’d toss me a biscuit.

I’m a friendly kind of fellow but not everyone appreciates that. Till I was a pup I was petted by lots of people. But as I grew up I sensed a change. People grew suspicious. And if I got too close they shrank from me. How that hurt!

Do you know we are cursed with an amazing sense of smell? Yes
cursed. Have you imagined what it would be like to smell fresh fish from the
fish seller? Or soft sweet buns from the bakery? Great, you think? Now imagine
them on an empty stomach. Pure torture.
Once I hadn’t had anything to eat for two whole days. By the third
day I was desperate. I hung around the fish shop hoping for a few scraps.
Nothing. I watched people carry home fresh bread and hoped they’d toss me one.
No luck. I rummaged in trash cans. All I found was plastic bags and rotten
vegetables.
Believe me when I say I’m honest guy. But that day, something
happened. It was the hunger. It blinded me, took over completely. I saw a lady
carrying a bagfull of fish and that was it. I took off with it.
The fish seller gave chase. Weak as I was, I was caught within
minutes. As blows rained on me I thought this was it. This is what’s called ‘to
die a dog’s death’. Then, suddenly, the blows stopped. I opened my eyes to see the
library lady.
She took me home, bathed my wounds and gave me food. That was the
sweetest bread I’d ever had. And she talked to me – man to man!! ‘I cannot keep
you here,’ she said. My heart sank. But then she gave me a magic collar. You
know what that means?
It means I ‘belong’.
Now, I sit proudly in front of our
library, which is home to me, and no one dare touch me. I welcome everyone with a hearty wag of my
tail. At night I curl up on my tiny rug outside the library. I never go hungry.

Life’s good.

Wrote this for Blogaada’s WOW.. but was a few minutes late, I guess!

In any case I wanted to do this as it is inspired by a real life ‘library lady’ who adopts street dogs despite the objection of many residents around here.

Cold

The
icy wind, sharp as shards of glass, cut through his frayed blanket. He was no
stranger to winter on the streets. He remembered at least 10 of the 14 years of
his young life but it had never been this bad. He closed his eyes praying for
sleep.
Suddenly
… something warm against his back. He sat up abruptly, warily. Two large eyes
looked back at him, desperate, beseeching.
Strangers
in the night
 … they stared at each other.
Slowly,
he extended his blanket.
And
then they slept ..
curled
up together,
giving
and receiving warmth.
Strangers
no longer.
Boy and dog.
*******

Linking to Write Tribe’s 100 words on Saturday introduced in February 2013 on Everyday Gyaan.

This week’s prompt ‘Strangers in the night’ was given by the lovely Suzy Que.

Blessing in disguise

She shaded her eyes
scouring the streets for an auto. “Who will be out in 45 degrees on Sunday
except a slave like me?” she grumbled moving her heavy bag to the other
shoulder. She cursed her boss for insisting she send the report today.
“Hi, may I drop you
somewhere?”

There’s something about men
on bikes.. isn’t it?
It was HIM, the new guy in
her society, quite the handsomest man ever.
‘You going home?” His
dimples shown.
‘I umm… yes.” She realised
she had been staring and was now stuttering.
‘Well hop on, then.”
And she did.
She loved her boss.

What a blessing in
disguise!

Linking to 100 words on Saturday at Write Tribe for the prompt ‘A Blessing in Disguise’ given by the wonderful Shilpa of ‘A Rose Is A Rose is A Rose‘.