Here is a short story for children that I wrote in light of Cyclone Fani’s arrival on India’s eastern coast. I believe that sometimes, childlike hope can get us through difficult times; the child inside us always knows of ways to survive.
For Noumaan and Kareema, and the children who live on within all of us.
Once upon a summer afternoon in Delhi, two friends; Ro and Fyo; were sitting in the balcony with their legs crossed across their laps. School was out, and both had lots and lots of homework to do.
“This is hard work”, said Ro, sipping on pineapple juice with his eyebrows bunched up in concentration.
“What are you studying?” Asked Fyo. Fyo had to write a short story about a bunny for Ms Sharma’s English class, but was rapping her pencil on the floor and trying to write the beat for a rock song instead. When Ro did not respond; busy blowing bubbles into the juice with his straw; she looked at his textbook. He had been drawing horns onto pictures of Emperor Aurangzeb in his History textbook.
He saw her looking, and slammed the book shut…
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