Midday Musings

The boy stared at the drops of water falling from the leaves outside his window. Every day, every day since the past three months he woke up, had his breakfast and sat there staring at the window. This trauma center run by an NGO had become his home for the last three months. But it was nothing like the home he had, the home he knew. No one had been able to reach out to him. Flashes of the past still haunted him. The violence, the fear, the terror. It all came back to haunt him and left him shuddering, till a nurse came by and pacified him with a sedative.

The government had given the nod to an industrial house for the acquisition of a multi crop fertile land for setting up their factory. This would affect nearly ten thousand people, almost all of them farmers, of the village. The boy and his parents were among the ten thousand people. When news of the acquisition spread out the villagers decided to organize a resistance movement. This land was rightfully theirs and under no circumstance were they going to give it up, not without a fight at least. They created a committee for the resistance against eviction. One day news arrived that the chairman of the industrial house was coming to visit the site along with government officials. The villagers decided to greet the chairman and the authorities with a protest march. They marched silently and blocked the entrance to the village. The officials spoke on behalf of the chairman and asked them to clear the way. But the villagers did not move an inch. Then someone from the crowd shouted, This is our land, we will not give it. Everyone else in the crowd supported him and started shouting slogans.

All of a sudden the police attacked the crowd and started beating up people randomly with their batons. The crowd ran helter-skelter in the unexpected attack. And there in front of his eyes the boy saw a policeman's baton coming down on his father. His father fell to the ground, blood gushing out of his forehead. The policeman pulled him up and pushed him towards the police van. He ran to his father, tears streaming down his face. The father saw the boy, managed a smile on his face and told him I am ok. But you are bleeding. Where are they taking you?

Where are you taking my father? Leave him. Let him go.

I am fine son. I'll be back soon. Go and find your mother and stay with her.

He stood there and watched his father go. People ran past him in every direction. The boy had never seen anything like this in his ten years on the earth. He tried to find his mother in the chaos little knowing that that morning would be the last time he saw his mother. And that he'd have to carry the image of his bleeding father being dragged away by the police for the rest of his life. In one fateful moment he was reduced to an orphan.

As he was staring out the window he felt something touch his hand. He looked and saw a little girl staring at him. Will you play with me?

He didn't answer but a semblance of a smile crossed his face. He turned around and helped the girl onto his bed and smiled at her. For the first time in three months the nurse saw him smiling.