………..

I saw a boy today a ragamuffin, in his torn, old, dirty, loose clothes which I think someone might have given to him with a merciful heart. Dusty brown as if never washed since months, loose and sandy white colored shirt, no slippers but bare foot on the burning road of tar, made him look like a mendicant. His pale eyes and gloomy look starred at some of the privileged boys of his age playing basket ball in their P.T. period on the playing field of my school. Standing unperturbed on the thorny steel fence, he watched them maneuver over the ground with the ball, enjoying the game. He might be thinking that if he too were there with the well groomed ones he would also have relished in the way they did. For a minute he was so deeply engrossed that he didn't even notice me passing by him, interpreting the notions of his mind, smiling at him. He was brought back into the world by the sound produced when I was trying to open the jammed lock (which is a result of rare lubrication) of my cycle. Anew in his own thoughts he moved in his slow pace taking glimpse of the boys. I felt……..