The Dawn

It was an unusual summer night; the sound of rain drops was giving me company as I buried myself to complete few assignments and project reports.

Mom was busy preparing dinner on one side and catching up with the audio of the daily serial that was broadcast-ed in a house right next to ours. We never had TV during that time and neither had we got any space for all such luxuries.  

The place where we live doesn’t have any walls. It only has shacks. So, everything we spoke was well audible on the other side.

Usually mom opts rice for most of the nights because we get 20KG ration bag every month. I have no idea how government can provide this for needy. But what I personally feel is, they are doing a fine job. Lakh's and crores of corruption makes not much of a sense to me. As long as they provide food for the needy, I am happy.

I love having my dinner with mango pickle. Most of the times I end up with either pickle or curd rice. And I kinda like the combination most.

Dad usually reached home at 7 in the evening after completing his day sales. Sometimes he did reach home early. It’s been 21 years since he started selling fruits on a wheel cart. He did sell fruits all his life and had struggled to keep me educated. He loved me like no one did. And I love him like no one else did. We used to be so connected right from the moment I started to keep memory of things. And that’s how my life had been all these years. I didn’t really had much of friends at school as I belong to slum. Most of the kids from slum areas didn’t go to school. But dad sent me as he always wished for good things to come my way.

But on that rainy day, dad came home way too late than his usual. And to my surprise, not even half of the cart was sold by the end of the day.

Days like these come and go in our life. We have got used to it and we take it like it’s not our day.

“Get in quickly and let the fruits get into the basket” Mom mumbled, as she didn’t want our challenges to be a gossip in the neighborhood.

“Yeah. Take this one in” replied dad in a little unsettled tone.

He pretended as if everything was just alright, even though he hasn’t made the best of money for the day.

“So, my boy, how are your preparations coming up?” Dad inquired.

I could sense concern in his voice. Even though dad is illiterate he has amazing life skills, the one that is absolutely necessary to sustain life.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.