Lady wiping off days of dust from her husband's auto. He will go out to work today - will she be able to sleep again at night?
These men meet everyday to read the papers - it was probably just the content that was more engrossing than normal.
The first day was spent learning to be a mother- cradling, nursing, burping, massaging, changing diapers– all the things they never taught you in b-school, but without which you could not survive a single day.
Ickle was better – he knew exactly how to wrap his tiny fingers around yours, look you straight in the eye and smile. “I trust you”, he seemed to say, and you knew you would try never to let him down.
Drabble (n) - an extremely short work exactly one hundred words in length. The purpose of the drabble is brevity and to test the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space.
But that remark had not been addressed at me at all. It was two kids, clearly of the worker class, who were being denied entry by the security guard. Their old and slightly scruffy clothes did contrast badly with the gleaming interiors the supermarket, but it did seem somewhat mean to deny them entry on those ground alone. After all, I visited the supermarket mainly because fruits and vegetables cost at least 10% less than they did at the nearest market – should people to whom that savings means a lot more than it does to me be denied the right to shop there? True, the management had the right to turn away anyone they did not deem suitable, but it somehow did not seem right either. But again, was there any guarantee that those boys would even buy anything. There must be cases of people who came only to gape and enjoy the air-conditioning, and if the presence of these people offended the sensibility of the target clientele of the supermarket, they management would feel compelled to turn them away.
But these two boys were barely ten – two days after everyone fell over backwards to make token gestures on Children’s Day, it seemed somewhat unfair to deny these boys something that was clearly a big adventure. But I was not in the frame of mind to try arguing with the security guard, so put it out of my mind and walked on.
A minute later, I saw the two boys skipping down the aisle. They knew exactly where to go and went there directly. Picking up a big box of cereals, they made for the checkout counter, paid and departed. Both were quite at home in the place, and must have invisibly visited earlier as a part of their ‘Madam’s’ entourage. It was only when they tried to enter on their own that they became visible and therefore undesirable.
I was glad they had stood up for themselves. But I still wonder how the security guard would have reacted if they had shown them a carefully hoarded ten rupee note with which they intended buying themselves a packet of potato chips. Would they still have been let in?
“No, Mamma, you have to come in with me. What if I drown?”
Had my son not been so excited about going swimming, I would not have taken him at all. Had he not insisted, I would have been outside, fully clothed.
Would I have seen on time that his head was under the water and that he was drifting? Would I have been able to reach him on time, and get the water out?
Should I blame myself for letting him bully me? Or thank his intuition for his still being alive?