Child Labour

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The tiny fingers were meant to hold crayons...

Sadly, they held brooms instead.

~ Suranya

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The First Letter

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He was struggling with his first letter to her. He had strangely written thousands of letters before. To his mother. To his seniors and subordinates. No letter left him in loss of words like it did today. What could be written to her? He had promised to write in an impulse. For when he was leaving for the battlefield the day after marrying her, maybe because he had seen it in her eyes. Tears held back. Worries concealed with a smile. And a sense of loneliness, A sense of getting lost in a palace full of unknown people. Truth be said, he didn't know what to tell his new bride. But what he did was to assure that he would write to her. For the first time, the sleepless night made him sit with a pen and paper and scribble. He had never paid heed to his words or letters before. They usually talked of politics and his well-being. But she... She was like a poem to his heart. Gentle, Deep. And mysterious. Reading between the lines was not easy when it came to her. He had wondered at times ...
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Am I Brave Enough?

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You come home with scars and pain  Yet I know your heart never heals,  With my most skillfully made balms;  The scars of betrayal by your own  You have learnt to live with and grown,  What else could you do? Yet every time I promise to be brave  Smile through your goodbye  Trying to fight back my tears  For the sake of a title that weighs  While you ride away to the horizon  I wish I were as brave as you. You say I give you the will to come home  After every battle, big or small,  You win or lose, it doesn't matter  You will always be a hero in my eyes. But there are times when no news arrives  For days, weeks, and months  Some say the troops are moving  Others report them losing  Some say you went missing  And all I can do is pray harder  For I am not as brave as you,  To pick up the sword and lose my honour;  But am I as brave as you?  You can rise from losses and win  Yo...
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Heartbeat

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There was a certain beauty in the forests. The rustling of leaves. The birds are chirping. The moon shone in its crescent shape, and the stars were slowly becoming visible as the sky grew a shade darker. She parted the curtains of the caravan. The light of a torch was visible at a distance. The dusk had just set in, and they were almost there. Or so she was told. On any other normal day, she would have noticed the rustling of leaves or admired a bird's song. But today was not any other day. Rumours were flying. She was summoned immediately to this hideout after ten days of the war and waiting. She had travelled alone, leaving the family behind in the Bhil village where they had set up camp. Her heart beat increased. Was it bad news? She said a soft prayer as the caravan stopped. Ranima." She heard her son outside the curtains. Come with me". The curtain parted, and her teary eyes met his disappointed face. "Where is he?" He had barely managed to point at the cav...
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