He crouched in the shadows

of the sparkling Lancer silently waiting for the opportune moment. Placing a hand on the gleaming door and leaving a dark smudge, he craned his neck in survey. Beads of sweat trickled from his curly hair and found their way down his back making a wet patch. I stepped closer. The crunch of dry leaves startled him and he spun around in alarm. But he was not perturbed. With single minded attention he raced to a low wall and sank behind it. The stones dug into his knee however he was oblivious to the damage. The path was clear, the moment was just right and the heavens were on his side. Purposefully he got up and in one swift movement reached the lamp post. Hugging it for dear life he shouted 'Raaahul Den! You have to count again. Raahul den den den!'


Two young jubilant boys charged out of the watchman’s shed.

One little thing in two plaits peeped timidly from behind three ladies who filled the seat in the children’s play area. A charming glow lit up her face. It was safe to come out.

‘Beta’ a lady on the seat called out. ‘You are looking for Rahul? His grandmother has taken him for a hair cut. He told me to tell you. You all go and play ok?’

I turned round the corner and smiled at my nodding friend as we made our daily evening rounds of the apartment complex. What heartbreak for that hero behind the lancer...