Ginny hops and skips across the street. My eyes follow her, wherever she goes. Presently she holds some flowers in her hand and hops towards me. ‘For you’, she says and skips away.
I am a young lad of some twenty and five years, waiting by the medical college holding a bunch of red roses, Aashus favourite. She comes out and sees me and then she sees the flowers and her eyes light up.
‘Ajja, ajja.’, Ginny says, do you want to go on that side, lot of kids playing over there’, she says. I nod. She takes me near the ground where some children are playing football whr=ereas some younger kids are just running around.
Aashu holds my hand and we go to the nearby cafeteria. It is our habit to go to the cafe, the day I get my pay package. Other days of course we cannot afford to eat out.
The ball hits me I shrug, a boy comes running up and says, ‘Sorry ajja’. I smile and wave him off.
Aashu jokingly pats my back, I feel her slender fingers, the warmth of hers touches my heart.
The children play, I enjoy looking at them, their energy fills me up, my only joy of the day when suddenly a boy cycling loses his balance and falls….
We are crossing the road, the road was empty but suddenly there is a roar of a bike. Aaashu is hit, she is falling, I try to save her…….
‘Appa, appa’, cries Chetan my son, be careful……take care of yourself first Appa, children fall and get up but if you fall…..’ says he as he holds me and makes me sit on the wheelchair again. I look at him with glazed eyes….how do I tell him I was trying to save my broken dreams.