I came home with an extra pencil and eraser today, he picked me up, my dad, and put a hand on the left cheek and rubbed gently. It’s not good to take other’s thing, give it back tomorrow, he said with a loving smile. He pulled me closer, you shouldn’t do that again, he said and kissed. I was five years old. Who was I to listen to him? I was eating chocolate, looking here and there, hoping no one was watching me. How was the chocolate? He asked when I came home. Colours of happiness on my face replaced with a blank expression. He didn’t ask how I got the chocolate. He probably knew I must have stolen it from somewhere, from someone. He got angry, he wanted to slap but my mom couldn’t let him do so. I was just seven years old. He threw a few words in anger. I got more homework and no dinner. But who was I to listen to him? I was playing cricket with friends on the street. My father came from the office, watched us play for some time. He smiled and taught me the right way to d...
Life means to learn, let's learn from all things around.