Do you see
how I love him true~
it could have been you.
As for you
and your love for she~
it could have been me.
But we were a maybe,
and never a must~
when it...
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@Sithara all work and no pictures makes jack a dull boy.
I had my face scrunched up, twitched in ridicule as I walked towards the car, my fingers lingering on my dupatta.
The sun shone bright, piercing into my body as if it wasn't December but some summer day.
I brought my left hand to my forehead, protecting my eyes from the scorching rays as I looked around before crossing the road.
"Are you okay?" Kabir straightened his posture against the car, looking at me through his sunglasses.
I took a noisy breath. "Just got to know I am yet to be pregnant." I rather spoke a little loudly near his ears.
"You need anything?" He questioned me out as a matter of facts. We were on our third village tour, the last day of it.
"Nah." I shook my head, gulping the saliva. I didn't feel clean and tidy at all.
I wondered how the women here, in the villages, were managing in those huts with minimum and sparsely available materials, with toilets meters and sometimes kilo-meters away from their own homes.
It was kinda scary, the intensity of the situation, the dearth and hollowness the people were living in, in poverty and in hunger, with no education and health, despite being only a distance away from the capital, from Delhi.
"I have sanitisers?" He suggested and I giggled lightly. "I have washed myself." I answered, tired.
"Di?" The voices from behind broke our talk. I turned around to little boys and girls running towards us with smiles big and full, with their hands carrying some coloured papers.
"Hey? What you'll doing here?" I put up an energetic face, the glee in their eyes making me to do so.
"For you." They shyly grinned, handing me over a few drawn cards. I could not help but beam and mumble a thank you.
"They are beautiful. I can't even. Thank you, really." I hugged them all together.
"Do I have the right to ask where I went wrong?" Kabir enquired playfully, his eyebrows dancing. "Why no gifts for me?"
"Because Sithara is special." I replied on their behalf as they stared at me.
It seemed almost surreal how me met hundreds of people in every event we organised and how we connected with each one of them as if it was meant to be.
I loved that feeling, that experience of witnessing the glitter in their eyes for they felt recognised, the vulnerability of their voice, the reality and pain of their stories and eventually the trust that felt more valuable than any other treasure of the world. I loved earning that faith.
