One_too_many_words

2

Drizzles are common this time of the year. Like the breeze that occasionally blows hair into your eyes or like a playful cat that happens to cut your path, they come and go, failing not to distract us from our monotonous thoughts, a little surprise for a boring day.  They come and go almost innocently, unlike the  sudden downpour that every other time catch the unprepared passerby.

Today, was just another such day, when the mild showers had decided to grace the earth with their presence.

Little did I know, that 'today' wasn't satisfied with being just another day....

As I waited by the roadside, taking comfort in the sound of pattering raindrops forming a soothing symphony with the ticking clock, a sharp sound echoed blatantly out of tone. Then through the gentle whizzing of the breeze, wailing and whimpering amplified and caught my attention.

Suddenly drizzles seemed so faultless no more . For once, my breath was drawn away, replaced by a sense of betrayal, the kind one feels when you learn the true nature of a friend who got too comfortable with you.

I felt numb when I realized that before my very eyes, the droplets falling ever so softly, the gentle pitter patter, I'd so often found comfort in, had but served to disguise the tears of the little boy across the street.

How often had I been blinded, I wondered.
How often had I remained ignorant of innocent tears?!

Seconds ticked by as I watched on in startled silence ,as those eyes, the most ordinary orbs of black against a background of flawless white stared widened, more in fear than in respect at, the form of the hand that had struck him.

At the sight, something within me ticked and then before I knew it I rushed across the street, whizzing past the oncoming traffic, to the boy's side engulfing his shoulders with my arms, almost protectively against his assailant.

"You're not supposed to do that?"  tumbled out my mouth before registering how offensive I sounded.

I winced at the realisation and tried once more, this time being careful to check my tone.
"I'm sorry, I didn't intend to come across like that, sir. It's just that I happen to believe it isn't right to hit anyone, especially so a little child."

But then the damage, had been long done. Needless to say, matters escalated quickly.

"And who do you think you are, princess, running about shoving your beliefs in another's face?", the old man all but snarled, his bright yellow shirt seeming lesser and lesser like his personality.

For once, even the thought that 'he might be right' crossed my mind, but the soft  suppressed whimpers were ironically too loud to be ignored.

"I'm sorry for intruding in business that isn't mine, sir ,but you're clearly hurting a defenseless child and I think it's only right that I speak up on his behalf. Even if he's done something wrong there's many other ways of correcting him. ", I tried, yet again even as the sensible part of me nagged deep within.

"I'm his grandfather and I have every right to discipline my grandchild any way I like . It's not like a little beating is going to kill him. Boys aren't supposed to be such weaklings anyways, crying and whining at every little thing." , he argued in defense, nudging the boy's head with a patronizing look.
That nudge was all it took for me to know there was no backing down.
" No harm in a little tough love..Look at us. We were also thought this way, back in the day and as you can see how we turned out ...", he trailed of in his holier-than-thou way.
"Evidently so, sir " I replied, politely yet with every bit of sarcasm intended.
This time, I will go all the way, if I must.

"Are you insulting me, you little brat?", the old man shouted back in challenge.

"Well , it surely wasn't a compliment" I retorted still maintaining my decorum.

"Brats these days simply have no manners, I tell you. Their parents have coddled them too much. Lived not one day of rough life and so they go about running their mouths as and when they like spouting nonsense. Don't know their place, don't
respect their elders.." the man fumed on, his fists clenched, seeking the support​ of the mute bystanders that had now gathered around to witness the spectacle.

Somewhere during his rant, I heard the the familiar hum of an engine and a honk in background and I knew it was my queue.

Shutting out the man's voice, I turned to face the little boy who's cries had now died down.

Kneeling down to his level, I took out a tissue to jot down my number.

"If it gets uhmm.... unbearable just give me a call, ok. Or call the police.. They're there to help you"

The boy gave a hard nod in reply. It was  then that I saw in his eyes,  a new emotion...
Hope.

Fishing out a lollipop, I was saving for later, I pressed my tributes into the boy's hands, and yet guilt was all I felt as I turned to leave.

I hadn't done much for the little guy. But in a country where the term 'child abuse' had way too many loop holes and exceptions, I had already pushed my limits.

Crossing the street again, I stepped into my father's car.

"What were you up to, munchkin?" , my dad's voice greeted me.

"Being a brat", I replied with a flat smile.
Raising his eyebrows in faint surprise and curiosity, my dad thankfully took the hint and refrained from digging into the matter, as he revved up the engine to leave.
I was a brat, alright. If that's what stating my opinion made me, that's what I was.  And maybe, as the old man said, because my parents hadn't beaten me up as a kid, I hadn't even learnt to be tough, not even tough enough to protect someone in need.
But what I had learnt among other things, was that those with authority and power weren't always right .
I had learnt that, saying things with the loudest voice didn't make you right, that fear was not respect and of course, that more noble than proving you were right was to admit when you were wrong, and take the courage to say sorry.

I'm sorry, little guy, that I didn't do anything more for you.I'm sorry, that all I can do is write this in hope that something will change.
I hope you meet people that ain't as weak as me, people who will actually change your world. 
But, if that's not the way it's meant to be, I pray that you receive the strength  to somehow endure, to keep that fire I'd witnessed in your eyes alive, till the day you can stand up for yourself and change your world !!!

Love,
A_girl_with_one_too_many_words.