Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The day shame died

What was in his little mind at that time? Maybe he wanted the sun to disappear and its pitch dark so nobody notices him, or was he thinking 'how will I ever look up again in front of these people', or was he mad at his mother for this humiliation cause he was too scared to be mad at his father.

The child in his early ten's was remorse, did not dare to lift his eyes, he knew his father was behind him. People in that little town watched with mixed reactions a young topless boy carrying a heavy dirty basket on his head and his dad walking behind him with a cane.

The boy was more like his mother, always smiling, always there to help anyone. His dad had to struggle during his early life and that had made him a tough man who did not take a 'No' for an answer.
It was a holiday and the boy had planned to share the cost of a hired bicycle with his friends and go riding. That was the ultimate fun he ever wished. He was gobbling the breakfast in a hurry while his mother came to him and said 'Dad had asked you to carry the food for the workers to the field'.

The field was a good 15 minutes walk. He had carried food before but never liked it, he always looked down while carrying one pot on his head and another pot in his hands. He wished no one noticed him and walked as fast as he could on the road.

But today is not going to be one of that days, his dad is not at home, this is the best time to get out, the cycle ride was waiting, if he doesn't go now, who knows if his friends will have enough money to share next week. He told his mom 'I am ashamed to carry the pots on my head' and ran to his friends.

His mother did not succeed in softening her husband. His fuming father had decided to teach the little one a lesson. 'I am going to end his shame' murmured his father while he filled the basket. He then waited, with a cane for the boy to come home.

The cane basket was too heavy for the little boy, the flies circled on top of his head, the black greasy liquid dripped on his bare chest. He wanted this to be a dream, a very bad dream.

He walked faster, like a wounded animal, the smell of cow dung following him.

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