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  • anosha rishi


“Mom,” cried out the little boy. The only reply that was heard was his own voice echoing off the walls. Once a warm home, now the house sang songs of loneliness waiting to be heard. “There are a thousand pair of eyes looking around. A thousand voices that can be heard. Why is none directed at me?”. He ran. He ran to the only place he could think of. He ran to where no one could see him but where everyone could hear his heart. He hurriedly threw on the black mask before taking out the paints from the bag. He shook the cans before he sent the colors flying. To him the world seemed black and white, like some sad 90s movie. The colors portrayed what went on in his head and his heart. He gave his thoughts and emotions life as it brought some color into his mundane life. Too lost in his little world, he almost didn’t notice the familiar ear piercing noise of the blaring sirens. Everything around him got a tint of red and blue as he sighed, picked up his bag and ran to the place he couldn’t call home.

He got what he wanted. Attention. A thousand voices. A thousand eyes, directed at him and only him. The voices were whispering, but it all seemed harsh. The eyes glanced at him every now and then, giving him unkind and judgmental stares. He clutched his head and was about to run away again. A hand stopped him. He turned around to see a person. Eyes looking at him, as if they could read him in and out. “Hey,” it was just a simple greeting, the softest voice he had heard. “Hey,” he said back. And that’s all it took.

By : Anosha Rishi (XI - Gir)

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