A TRIGGER OF LOVE

Trigger Of Love

                                   PART I
                    'You love war?' Salim asked. His deep brown eyes were filled with tears.
          'Who loves. My father eats with fear in his heart.' What if they attack once more? 'is his question while eating. Who likes it. We lead a horrendous life..... . But why are you asking?'
     Salim thought for a while, looked at her and asked,
     'What does your father do?'
            Ria was surprised with such a question. Good to say, she knew very less about her family. What more can a seven years old girl know, than parent's name , but still she tried to explain,
            'Huh! My father.. Wait.. My father is Rajesh Sikka, married to Miss Mira Sikka. Papa is a general, working for the Indian Army.. Mom is a sufi singer.. My full family comprises of polices.. And they all hate terrorists.. I too.. Hate terrorists.. Many have died in my family because of them... Idiot terrorists.. Want to give India to Pakistan.. Well what your father does.. And why are you crying? '
       Yes. Ria had a great background. Her family, comprised of four CRPFs, was the most respected family of their lane. They were rich, happy, contented. Ria' s eldest brother, Rittik, was killed, when he fell into the hands of IQBAL TERRORISM ASSOCIATION (ITA).
            Salim looked away. His eyes were wet.Ria looked at him,
                   'You.. crying?'
     Ria, with her soft hands, turned Salim's head towards her. She looked through his eyes.
     "You are crying Salim. What is it? You can sa.."
Salim interrupted,
           'Who will not cry who can't bring their parents to their school? And they even....'
    'Good morning students.'
The teacher interrupted. Salim rubbed his eyes to hide his emotions.Salim had a substandard life---politics and poverty the main members of their family.
        The class ended and so did the school.Salim
took his bag and started walking as Ria called him,
      'You were telling me something.. What is it... Something which makes you sad... Tell me... If I can help you.'
    Right at the door stood a big steady man, eyes lined with kajal and wore a big dress. He looked at Salim, as if he warned Salim about something. Salim looked at him and at once he ran to him. Salim went away with that man, once looked at Ria, and she could understand, Salim was crying.
       The day ended. Not a good day at all. Ria was worried for Salim.
        It was a beautiful evening, Kashmir 's evenings are really attractive. Mr Rajesh, after a hard working day, returned home.
 ' Papa, good evening, how was your day??'
Ria bumped into her father as he entered the home.
  ' Good day, dear. How was your's my dear?'
          She spoke with a shinning voice,
' Very nice papa, I got a new friend, his name is Salim. He hates war like me. Papa, can't you all stop fighting? There will be..'
     Rajesh ji grew tensed. His eyes turned big,and why not, most Muslims in Kashmir are thought to be terrorists.
  ' Salim is Muslim.. Having muslim friend my child?'
      'Yes papa, I really like him.. He is great.'
    Mr. Rajesh Sikka was worried.
'Mira.. I had something to say..'
   Rajesh ji went into the kitchen, where Mira, Ria's mother was cooking. Mira ji tuned sufi , and went on cooking Dal Makkhani.
  'Yes. Tell.'
     'Our child is having muslim friends.'
'What! What the hell! How can she??'
         She was terrified.
   'I don't know. Let us correct her.'
      Ria could not be corrected.
  Days passed. Ria grew closer to Salim. Pure friendship in an impure world.
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