The show is over and the children have dispersed.Into little frocked clusters sitting dangly legged on plastic chairs.He appalled by yet another piece of the Barbie cake ,resolutely gulps it down.Its come to this now.
He slides the the purple robe off , puts the rabbit back into the hat and trudges home.
………………………………………..
The desks are polished planks of roughly hewn wood,the text books pages are bleached to blueness.The small windows have curtains.Its that kind of school.
“Bank clerk.,sir”
“Shop ..er..businessman sir, stationery shop.”
“Tuition-teacher”
“….pata nahi sir..”
“Eng-lish!”
“I don’t know,sir”
“You do not know what work,your father,he is doing?!”
………………………………………………
He painfully wrote out his name in cursive and shot a glance at his mother.He wasn’t supposed to talk during home-work time but.. “Mummy…
Where is papa?”
“Working .You study.”
“What work?”
She twisted the corner of her mouth in contempt. “Why don’t you ask him what work a grown man like him is doing.”
……………………………………………….
A long draught of cool water from a metal tumbler .Comfortable now in his vest and dhoti.
His son came and stood next to him ,holding the wide arm of the chair for confidence.
You’re tired?
“A little..*weak grin*..long day”
“What did you do?...No my teacher was asking ..I didn’t know..”
He looked at his son and it all came in a rush ,drowning the rest out.So he whispered ,softly,enchantingly-magic.
“Oh!”
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4 comments:
It's good.
It's a few words short of magic, though...
But it's good.
absolutely heartbreaking. in a good way.
Nicely written. In my head, the father has a moustache when he's a magician but is moustache-free when he's no longer in costume.
okay.then he does.
I didnt think out the details so..but it sounds fine.
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