Friday, April 22, 2011

He was a quiet boy.Thats how he always remembered even after a devade and half.The dialogue in his head kept him busy, lost in his world of questions , looking at the world like a fish in a bowl, trying to make sense of it.
It was a wonderful day out, 4 in the evening on a summer day in Bangalore.He was 7 and standing at the balcony railing of the apartment on the first floor, looking at the scene on the road in front of the apartment building,where he lived with his parents and 3 year old sister.His mother stood between them.

"Why can't I go and play with them, like they are?"he asked his mother
"Why don't I have friends?"

They had only recently moved to Bangalore and the boy had not yet made any friends.At 7 there isn't much more a child would want than someone to play with, someone to conspire with,confide in,wonder with,grow up with.I wonder if that ever changes.But this boy it was particularly a sharp desire to be part of that bantering group playing badminton on the road.

He looked at his mom and said, "Why can't I play with them?"

"Well, thats not going to happen standing here"

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