Food oh Food
The exams were over and as promised by my dad we would be soon leaving for a trip to Manali. Knowing my food crazy nature and also seeing me not having my food properly during exams my mom got up early to prepare some healthy oil soaked food.
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Four hours of continuous travelling and my sister’s road
sickness had left nothing inside us and we decided to stop at a restaurant- “Sher-e-Punjab”.
A railway track running behind the restaurant touching infinity and the sun
playing hide and seek behind the woods. It was a beautiful and soothing to eyes
if not to body.
After having food, my father got busy in paying the bill
while I was stretching myself to make myself ready for another long drive.
During that after brunch exercise, my eyes got stuck to an old man. His filthy
clothes and skin peeping ribs could easily explain his appalling life. He was
searching for the food in the plate disposal bin, a scene which killed my
excitement of the trip.
I wished that I could do something for him, ‘but what?’ I
thought. The cheeks had gone wet and this time it was not because of excessive
sweating I was dealing with but with the salty tears which became even more
salty after extra salty food. It was the first time I felt pain for somebody
that deep.
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We left for Manali after that break, but that incidence has
pulled each and every colour from the surrounding. The trees were looking dull,
the sky was not blue the river Beas was not sparkling. That day imbibed
something in me, I am still searching for the answers for the questions I never
put forward.
We have lost something, something which requires more than a change...something which requires revolution...
We have lost something, something which requires more than a change...something which requires revolution...
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