The boys ran out the back door as soon as they were done. Their steps gave life to the mud and leaves that followed them as they swiftly made their way to the ground, to their spot.

The grass coated land that caressed one's feet as one passed by was often referred to as the ground. It was in fact located beside a stream with sprinting water so clear that one could count the number of pebbles beneath it. As the boys ran across it, the stream would wet their feet and let them splash water on one another.

For the boys, the speciality of their spot was not the stream but the contrast of  scenery on either side of it. The lush green trees that never seemed to end as the boys gazed from the ground. The leaves glistened and danced in the sun providing ample shade. The crevices in between adjoining leaves acted like spotlights, the birds clung to it's branches taking flight every now and then. The other side adjacent to their village and human life, was occupied by the ground.

Most of the boys were already on the ground as the brothers arrived. The mild slap on the wrist they had received had not even scratched their spirts as they sat there handmade cards in hand. They beamed as the brothers took their spots on the grounds.

As the sun roared in the sky making their t-shirts merged with their bodies, droplets surfaced on their foreheads. They decided to play the one game that was played on the other side of the stream, under the hovering leaves: Chor Police.

The boys however had special rules. They had only one police who had to chase multiple thieves in a limited time, making it almost impossible for the police to win. However, the side Shyam represented always won and this time he was the police.

Shyam faced the tree trunk and counted to ten. They played in Mother Earth's lap, one that had layers upon layers of mud as their bare feet left their impressions on her.

Shyam's eyes bore into the mud, searching for tiny disfigurements, impacts and not footprints. He followed one on tiptoes and listened intently to the sounds around him. The whistling wind, the leaves, the insects and...mild heaving. His legs wasted no time as they quickly crossed one another, the trees were turning into a blur of green as he hastened. The two boys were now fully aware of Shyam's presence however running didn't do them any good. They were no match for his swift legs nor had they heard him arrive, it was over. They were caught.

Shyam's eyes scanned the uneven soggy earth surrounding him as his legs effortlessly carried him to the starting point. An imprint deeply etched in the soil drew his attention. It was that of a human leg, wide and long akin to an enlarged leaf; certainly not that of a child. The impression was crystal clear, whoever it belonged to was certainly in no hurry. The long strides, one after another led their way into the bushes.

Shyam's neck tilted as he scratched his head, the footprints were without a doubt baffling him. No one was ever seen in this area, in fact the boys were told that the area was off limits though they were never given logical reasons for it; the boys as you now know had ignored this advice.

Shyam remembered the day he had ventured deep into the forest. As he walked by the trees enlightened by the sun, gazing up at their high peaks, he had realised for the first time just how small he was. The trees made beautiful arches above him making a symphony of light and shade. Shyam had climbed a tree that day and as he stood atop a branch, he saw one of the most beautiful scenes in front of him, elephants. The clearance ahead of him was filled with them, their enormous ears and trunk made his jaw drop and sun reflect in his eyes. The elephants could never enter the green landscape he was a part of and he could only observe from afar. Little did he know that the elephants often paved the paths, travelled and owned their domain, the forest and left their imprints in it's depth. This had right then and there showcased that Shyam's feet had traced just a speck of the thick forest.

The elephants Shyam had thought was the danger that lurked in these woods. He thought he was safe but the villagers on the contrary had made up more than their fair share of stories about the forest, to cross the river was taboo. Shyam's lips tucked up as he looked at the footprints again, he was about to meet an adult, one who had not been influenced by the people around him, who wasn't afraid.

The imprints lead him to a pitch black stump amidst the trunks whose ends could not be seen by mere eyes, amidst swaying leaves and bright fruits. It was a discontinuity.

Shyam turned around himself, looking for a hint of human life. He sat on the stump with eyes closed as he listened to the birds, the buzzing insects, the wind leaf symphony and a .. a soft rhythmic thumping sound more or less akin to the sound of the axe as his father fell a tree.

Shyam's eyebrows creased. Why enter deep into the forest to cut trees? One could easily make do with the  ones at the boundaries, on the other side of the stream. Shyam lifted himself on his tiptoes and carefully without ever stamping on a dry leaf reached the source of the sound.

As Shyam stood behind the thickness, he could only see the back of the man in front of him. Unlike most, the man was not thin, his t-shirt dripping with sweat seemed to be stuck to his body showcasing bulging muscular arms and a V shaped silhouette of his back. A sharp breath escaped Shyam's mouth as he gazed at this image in front of him. Startled by his own actions, Shyam lost his footing and stepped on a twig.

The crack was rendered extremely loud by the silence surrounding it. The man turned around, his eyes wide as he moved his neck from side to side, till they were greeted by Shyam's black orbs. The axe was dropped as he slowly moved towards Shyam.

Shyam had never seen him before and that combined with the man's slow methodical steps were perhaps what kicked his adrenaline in. Shyam's jaw had dropped down, his pupil dilated as his eyelids and eyebrows were raised to the extreme. His legs moved all on their own, away from the man.

Shyam stopped, bent down firmly grasping his knees, his mouth open. He heard his friends calling out for him and returned to them.

To this very day, Shyam has no idea why he ran away at that moment. Perhaps it was the fact that he was alone that scared him, was it the size of the man he wondered. Perhaps it was the way the man's eyes widened brimming with excitement. He now knows that if he had been still, the man would never have entered his life and he would have perhaps been a normal village boy.

**My dear reader, I love writing stories because they have the power to bring out emotions from people I miles and miles away from me. These words are my happiness and to know that it brought out the slightest emotion out of you would mean the world to me. Maybe it just lifted you lip a tiny bit or made lines appear on your forehead, please let me know for that is the sole purpose of these words. Leave a comment, your thoughts, anything. A vote would mean that you enjoyed reading it. It takes seconds and yet means the world to me, the teenager behind the keyboard