Scream. Close. Damage.

Scream (July 13)

He clutched at his bed-sheet; his knuckles were white. 

Excruciating pain was the only way to label his ordeal. Amul learnt that life can be unfair on multiple counts.

As his father lashed his leather belt at his back blaming him instead of his genes, all this mute boy could do was scream with his eyes.

Close (July 14)

The second hand stepped forward, like a soldier. Dependable. The hour hand was the general. Watchful. The minute hand was sluggish. Jerky. Faulty

"Clamp." The attending surgeon ordered. The nurse fetched it. As he sutured the chest, the patient's eyelid flickered. The minute hand was back on track. The new heart had opened a new door. 


Damage (July 15)

Tensions were running high. One ball to go. 

A juicy low full toss; the mighty swing was justified. Ramesh's six won the game and shattered his neighbour's Audi's windscreen.

Livid, the neighbour stormed out and slapped the 11 year old. He wasn't done. With bottled rage, he spat at him. "Did you know you're adopted?"