The Glass Window

Today I would like to present to you, a short story. I hope you like it readers. Those who follow my blog closely will be able to relate this to a blog I had written previously. Here it is:

His little fingers clutched his arms tightly. All of eight, he fancied himself the strongest and wisest in the family and had even given away his blanket to his sister. He had borne the cold bravely. But this day was different. Even his fingernails opined so. The December cold had turned them a shade of purple.

He had no idea what the time was, except for the fact that the sun had set and the sky was now black—-peppered with stars that graced his eyes with a sparkle or two. And then something happened , that made him turn his eyes away from humble nature to the more extravagant human civilization surrounding him. It was long and it’s white body gleamed beautifully in the dark. He had seen many long cars before, but not with eyes as wide as the moment when he saw this one. What a magnificent car! It spoke volumes about the glory of it’s owner.

He gaped relentlessly, as out came two young girls ( a little older than his sister he believed) dressed in delicate fabric, their frocks frilled and tied elegantly. With them, came their great parents, and the mother clasped her daughters’ cream- white, well nourished hands and walked hurriedly to what seemed like a glorious , light-filled house of glass. It had a huge window of glass across which he could see people eating, laughing and making merry. He could see children too– they were running around a gigantic , conical tree embellished with little sparkling objects that shone just like the stars he had laid eyes on previously.

He watched as people went in, and people came out. He saw the two girls inside the glass house. One of them stood on a table( much to the irritation of the parents) and jumped up and down, her brownish curls swinging up and down too. What fun, he thought. He wanted to join her. He wanted to jump up and down too, in that opulent room on the other side of that glass window. Mentally, he too participated in the activity . But this was soon interrupted by the sobs of his three year old sister who had been asleep. He stroked her back lovingly , as he found out the culprit– a pebble, which had hurt her soiled, yet delicate feet. As she drifted off to sleep again and his primordial brotherly instinct made him cover her cold feet with a dusty old blanket, something hard hurt him too. This wasn’t caused by a rock or pebble, but was the result of a part of his heart breaking. His chest felt heavy as the heart within it suddenly longed to have all that the people on the other side of the glass window were having. He wanted to sink his teeth into the food those people were devouring with relish. He wanted to be held like the girl on top of the table. He wanted to be loved , to have his fingers cared for by warm hands.

But all of eight, our hero was indeed wise. He knew that he was destined to not have what people on the other side of the glass window were having. He knew that the glass window was a barrier between a world of light, privileges, revelry; and a world of perpetual darkness and faithlessness. He knew that the other side of the glass window was just a distant fantasy.

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