Hello Varun,
It’s me once again,Varun.I know that I disturb you a lot. Your sleep might be abhorring me right now. But there are issues that are concerning me these days Varun.I was never the same before and I wish to never remain in the state as I am today.I hope you are listening.You are the only one who cares about my worries. But I have complaints to make. Each time I share my distress with you,you soothe me out and I shun thinking. This is not going to work this time Varun.You’ll have to provide me with a solution. There’s nobody else with whom I can share these stuffs.
Its been a year,Varun,since I am accompanying my mom.I too ,daily walk with her,miles,till we reach that 18 year old apartment.There,I see people getting dressed up for their offices, women unlike my mom, cooking up for their kids and young chaps, aged alike me going to schools with bags clung at their backs.There’s this particular house,Varun,where each day I ring the bell, 2 and a half minute long is the bells tone. This bell too rhymes differently each day, unlike my monotonous life. A handsome young boy opens up the door, yells to his momma ‘Mom,Kachra leney waaley aaye hai’ and his mom comes running hastily, handling her saree, to dump her household waste into my basket. Personally, although I like the boy, I don’t like his mom Varun.She “orders” my mom to clean away her dustbin and she also prefers not to touch us. She neither allows our broom to get into her house ,Varun.I never understand why,Varun.I’ve tried asking my mom several times, but each time, she ends up saying “It has always been so.We aren’t allowed to get into their homes.They are ‘Badey log’".'Badey Log'? How do people get ‘Badey’ and who decides who is ‘Badey’,Varun?Eventhough,I don’t like his mom,I like the kid Varun.He is of the same age as mine.Each morning he’s charmingly dressed into blue pants and a white shirt. Each morning, he’s all set to go to school. He exchanges smiles with me daily .He is unlike his mom.He never falters, when by-chance he touches me or my mom.He simply smiles and goes away.I respect that boy,Varun.
I too have curious eyes,like him, Varun.Eyes curious to watch the world, to step into that kid’s world.I too have a dream of jumping off this foul smelling well and exploring the world beyond.I too wish to go to school.I don’t want to pick up people’s household waste.I don’t want to spend my precious life picking up the garbage bins.I wish to smell the fresh books.I wish to dream.I wish to fulfill those dreams,Varun.Each day I sleep,I imagine myself in that kid.Will my imaginations get wings?Will they be ever able to fly?Will I be ever able to dare to dream?Varun,this time you’ll not ignore me.Promise me that Varun. Time flies by soon.I need an answer Varun.I sleep tonight hoping to wakeup tomorrow morning with the answers to my concerns Varun.Good Night.Yours,Varun
