My fingers started to ache with the pressure of the flimsy bags pulling them down, But I carried on. I cannot stop, I thought, Mama must be waiting. So I walked on and took a turn to the marketplace near our home, That was the exact moment I felt my boot soles tear apart a bit, But I carried on, anyways. I can fix this with scotch tape at home, I thought.
I reached the vegetable shop at last, Even though my toes were bruised by the walking, I acted all happy and cheery. 'Salam, Sahib' I greeted the shopkeeper who passed me a disgusted look and stood up. 'Salam, Bachay. What can I do for you?' He asked in a sarcastic tone and passed his friend, an old man with an ugly beard, a wink. 'Um, A KG of potatoes, please' I said, trying my best to sound kind and normal. The shopkeeper picked up some faulty potatoes and started to weigh them. 'No, I want fresh ones. Not the bad ones' I said suddenly. He passed me a loathly look and picked up some fresh ones and weighed them. I knew the difference between good and bad, That's a long story I will explain later.
'If you can't pay, Then, I understand, Just ask your.....' He started off with venomous sarcasm but I cut him off 'Nay. I can pay. Why wouldn't I have money? I am no beggar! Here is your money' I put his 35 RPS on his table with a bang and picked my potatoes up 'Now, Listen, You feed on the Halal money of many such kids like me.'
And with that, I left. Left as a dignified Balloon seller, Left as a poor kid with a mother to look after.
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Stories Of The Unseen
NovellerThis is a collection of short stories written to bring in light, The unseen heroes, The unseen events, The unseen parasites of our society. All the stories in this collection are written to convey the message of World Peace and Display the little j...
