A week had passed. Everyday, before the sun rays seeped through the windows and illuminated his face, Ram would hear the crackling sound of his brother's bed sheets. It was soon followed by the sound of running water that filled the silent room.

Ram always kept his eyes shut in these instances. Yet at times his eyes opened halfway through only to be met by white teeth; the smiling face of his brother before he returned to his slumber.

Ram would wake up to the sound of his mother's singing as she cleaned their room. As he interlaced his fingers and stretched them, he could see Shyam's bed with sheets and pillows strewn across the cot. Initially, he would make his brother's bed before his own. However, that day as his hands were stretched above his head and his mouth was open, his eyes widened. Shyam's bed was made up!

Ram would then enter the kitchen and greet his mother before giving her a hug . "Ma, did you make Shyam's bed today?" Pan in hand, his mother's head turned to face him and her eyes narrowed as her cheeks became fuller. She said, "His sir told him that discipline is the key to success in sports. He believes that it should begin at home. However, I have no idea as to how discipline and making one's bed are co-related."

Ram was walking to the creek when he saw his father talking to their neighbours. He saw his father taking the man's hand in his palms and bending low. He continued walking but the image of his father's head bent low as a red cloth hung on his soiled white shirt never left his mind as his legs automatically carried him to the one spot he was way too familiar with, the creek.

The boys were already on the ground playing when Ram arrived. They gathered around him in a circle as they enquired about Shyam yet again.

Ram told them about Shyam's ever widening smile as he talked about his training. About the way Shyam's hands moved frantically and eyes twinkled as he sat on his bed explaining the various movements he performed on marked piece of land he called the court.

"His sir he once told me has a mobile phone that plays videos. The kind that only the money lender has!" Ram said. Some of the boys widened their eyes while others had their mouths open.

Ram told them about the match Shyam had seen on the phone. He told them about the metal rackets that shine in the light, about shots that were directed to the ground in a vertical manner, about the shuttle that on contact with the racket moved just a few inches and didn't rise high.
"It went shwoosh and then tuck and turned before it fell on the ground, the players controlled it!" Ram said as his hand moved downwards with great speed and then slowed down to do a small turn of the palm. He performed it just the way Shyam had shown it to him.

The boys however, imagined it more or less like a fight, with great ferocity and speed. "Will he leave the village and play like that?" one of them asked. Ram's head lowered as he kicked a nearby pebble which went flying to the other side of the creek. "I don't think so. We don't really have enough money. I..I don't have it in me to see him crying. Everyday, I can see dreams of the city float in front of his eyes" Ram said.

"We can collect some money you know. I am willing to give you all my savings and I know that most of the others are too. We have saved up all our lives you know, we probably have a lot" a seven year old boy said. Heads moved up and down as the boys agreed.

That evening, small jars and pots were opened and cleaned of their contents. Every little coin was taken into consideration and smiles were spread across faces as the boys slept peacefully.
                            ****
"Thirty and thirty one" Ram said. Thirty one rupees was all that the boys were able to collect. "How much do we need?" a boy asked. Ram tilted his head and hung it low as he said, "Twenty thousand."

Ram went straight home that day. As he lay on his bed his mouth covered by a pillow, he screamed. He could then feel droplets of water making their way down his cheek. His eyes burned and turned red. He dragged his body to the sink and dipped his head in a puddle of water.

As he entered the kitchen, he noticed that his mother's ears were no longer adorned by the butterfly shaped golden earrings. "Ma, where are your earrings?" he asked. "I had no need for them anyways so I put them in a safe place" she said as her hands scrubbed the vessel in her hand a little hard. Her emotions were contained to that little action.

As Ram sat in their courtyard, he remembered a conversation he had with his mother. The way she always held on to her earnings with her right hand whenever she was in a spot. He remembered the way tears would fill up her eyes as she talked about his grandmother. "She gave it to me the day she left me. It is my sole link to her. Every time I touch it, I can feel her presence beside me" she would say as she touched that earring.

The following day, he had heard his father hug her as he said, "They gave me five thousand for it. Say the word and I will return it and get back your earrings." "No. Did you mortgage the house?", she asked. "Not yet" he replied.

Ram went from door to door asking for work, chores he could do in exchange for money. As the sun was roaring in the sky and Ram was enveloped in his sweat with visible droplets on his forehead, his tiny fingers came in contact with yet another wooden door. Although the door was nothing special, the woman living inside had a life other villagers could barely imagine. She was a respected old lady with a back that was just about folded into half. The corners of her eyes would fold multiple times and her rotting tooth were displayed as her mouth widened into a smile. Her hair had no black strands in it. But she was not respected solely based on her age, she was the only one who took people to the city.

As the door to her house cracked open ever so slightly, Ram saw her beautiful brown orbs. "Can I do something for you grandma? Chores in exchange for money?" Ram asked. He saw the folds on her neck move as she opened her mouth, "How much money do you need?" Ram's eyebrows were quashed together as he slowly interpreted the slurry speech. "Twenty thousand rupees" he said.

The old woman's eyes twinkled in the sunlight that entered through a crack in the hay thatched ceiling. She took out a piece of paper and handing to him said, "Get me the thumbprints of your parents on the bottom of this sheet. I will take you to the city, give you education and get you a job. I will give you the twenty thousand in exchange for your salary. You work and you pay me back. Ok?" Ram could not believe his ears. His eyes widened and stream of water crossed his cheeks. He opened his arms and hugged the woman. "Thank you" he said.

As his feet crossed the threshold of his house, she called out to him. His neck turned to face her. "Get me the fingerprints tomorrow and we can leave the village by noon". Ram had never thought that he would leave village let alone at such short notice. His head however moved up and down without a second thought. He had sealed his fate.

That evening, his mother's earring were once again in their rightful place. The boys once again had their savings in hand. He was pulled into hugs and tears threatened to spill as he broke the news of his departure. His brother pulled him into a tight hug and patted his back as he said, "You are so lucky."

The following morning, the blank paper with two fingerprints were in Ram's one hand as a cloth bag hung over his shoulder. He had a smile etched on his face as his mind replayed the moment the old woman handed cash to his father and promised to take care of him. He would never forget the way the creases on his father's forehead cleared and his lips moved, a silent prayer. That evening, Ram reached his place of work.

The multicoloured bright lights on the streets were reflected in Ram's eyes as his head tilted up. The building he was lead to had a single boy dressed as a girl dancing amidst grown men who howled and whistled. Ram saw coins being thrown at the boy. As their eyes met, Ram's foot moved back all on it's own. There was no life in his eyes as he stared at Ram, his body swaying to the rhythms without a pause. A woman took hold of his elbow and pulled him up the stairs as his body tilted, he was still watching the 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