The 360th Word

By Gaurav Parab

I promise that this piece will not be longer than 360 words. I know I can write a thousand pages, or perhaps a book made up of a million tears. Yet, I know that no one is interested. So I will keep this short.

People say that I am always frowning and complaining. So many people get robbed. Do they always complain and cry? I agree that they don’t. In fact, a friend whose house was wiped clean the other day is already buying new furniture. He says that the police are trying to catch the thieves that broke into his house.

Where was the police when my home was robbed. What did everyone think? That I am supposed to move on?

I wish I could have celebrated every cricket win, the creation of wealth all around me, the Kargil victory, the new Amir Khan movie, or even a glass of pure water. But I just can’t find the strength to smile, or to forget. Perhaps, I am being selfish and stubborn.

Yes, I was robbed. My parents were killed, and I was left a cripple for the rest of my life. We never saw the thieves who came inside our house. They crept in sometime in the evening, took everything and then they swept out. The only thing they left was my self-respect. Which was taken away when I saw them being driven in Government cars to the airport, instead of jail. 

Everyone knew their names, everyone knew what they took, everyone saw them do it! And amazingly they did it with thousands. An entire city! Not with one, not with a hundred, but thousands.

Then they had the cheek to price my life at a few thousand Rupees. I wish someone in that court had put a value to human life, and not a price to Indian flesh, and bones.

It was not a gas leak. It was not a robbery, it was murder. Who ever took money to let them get away, was as responsible as them. And Responsibility is the 360^th word I would like to leave you with.

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