The moonlight seeping through the cracked window illuminated the grey cement ceiling and the locked door. It was beautiful yet in the eyes of a child who had been separated from his family, it was just a gray backdrop.

Ram's eyes were still as they brimmed with water. As he lay on the hard wooden cot, he focused on the creaking rhythmic sound of the fan above him. If and when he closed his eyes, the boy would see his mother's smile and the wrinkles on the corners of her eyes, he could smell the mud that surrounded him as his father entered the threshold, he could see Shyam jumping on his bed as his tiny face glowed. Then, he could feel warm streams of fluid that caressed his cheeks and found their way to his lips. It was salty, he would realise and then open his eyes again. The mask he had painted over his face as he left the village was now melting.

That day Shyam lay on his bed, turned around and stared at his brother's cot. The sheets and the thin mattress were no longer there. It was empty and quiet. A gust of wind would grace his face every few minutes. Yet, as Shyam looked at his packed bag, he knew that he would not be able to sleep. Although his eyes were wide open, he could see in front of him bright lights, he could see towers that had no ends and vehicles that ran all on their own, without animals, he could see the city. He had been given an opportunity and there was no way he would waste it by reflecting back on his life.

The next day, Ram was woken up by a woman in her thirties. Her eyes were lined with Kajal and a red lipstick masked the cracks on her lips. Her hair was let free; cascades of black water that framed a round face. Ram suddenly sat upright and brought his knees close to his body and wrapped his bony fingers around them. The woman's eyes relaxed and softened as her lips tucked up. Her eyes too had wrinkles around the corners. That is perhaps why Ram's hands feel into her outstretched ones as she led him out of the room. What that nine year old boy saw then was his mother .

The sun's orange had merged with the sky's blue as Shyam stared at it with his bag on his shoulder. His mother opened her arms as wide as she could and enveloped him. His father placed his hand on Shyam's hair and ruffled it as he said, "Give it your all. Nothing more and nothing less." Shyam bent low and touched his parents feet. As their arms were still waving at him and eyes were filled with water, Shyam opened the car door and put his foot in. That day, as he listened to the radio without turning back to stare at his parents, without bothering to lift his hand up to bid them farewell, Shyam was moving on. As excited as he was, he thought that he'd be okay without them. Little did he know that he needed them and his path wouldn't let him turn back and be with his family until it was too late.

Right at that moment, Ram had reached the exact place he saw last night. The lighting had been turned off and the open windows made the room feel full of life. Yet, as Ram was in there again, in the boy's spot, he felt a shudder down his spine. He could see the boy with blank eyes, whose lipstick laden lips were turned up and yet his eyes screamed as he was torn to bits each day. Like the shards of broken glass, he too was at times pushed under the rug and the damage and the sharp edges were hidden away. Ram could see the men too, he could see their eyes and their vigorously colliding hands as the dim lights hid their faces, faces that could never be seen in daylight as they hid behind their facades.

Ram's hands wrapped around his body as he closed his eyes hoping to see his mother's smile, hoping that she would assure him that he was mistaken. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, Ram's neck turned to meet it's owner. His bulging eyes relaxed when he saw the woman who had woken him up. She opened her arms and pulled Ram towards her. He was smothered between her arms and her belly yet the warmth made his stiff shoulders relax as the woman's saree was slowly soaked turning the red into a deep maroon. Perhaps she could protect him the boy thought as he let his tears confide in her.

That day both the brothers were taught tricks of their trades. Ram as it turned out was to work in a side business. He would have to pick pockets and get the money to the brothel. "I am Rukmini" the woman said as Ram's eyes focused on the up and down movement of the bright red chapped lips. "The only thing that I can teach kids is my trade and I am glad you are not to be a part of it" she said as the sound of her payal (anklet) lowered till it blended in with the chaos around him and was then lost. Ram stood in that bright humongous room for what seemed like eternity. His eyes were yet again closed and his cheeks were warmed by fluid emanating from his eyes. A hand came in contact with the back of his head and slapped it. Ram's feet moved as fast as they could to see a teenager grinning at him. "I am Piyush. You must be the newbie" he said as he grabbed Ram's elbow and pulled him towards the door opposite to the one Rukmini had exited.

The boy led him through a hallway, yet another door, a left turn and then made crawled out of a hole at the bottom of a locked door. Ram's feet were glued to the ground as his jaw opened slightly. Before him was the city he had imagined. The vehicles that moved without the help of animals, people with bent necks stared at mobile as they smiled and smirked. Some had their fingers tapping away at the device. Ram had merely thought of these gadgets as speculations of the future. Yet, as he saw these gadgets being used as if they had always been there, he smiled. Perhaps his new life was not all too bad.

Shyam had reached the town miles away from the one that held his brother. He was sitting on Raghav's couch with his hands on his knees. The ceiling was so high that Shyam had to tilt his head to the limit to see it's end. The room was glowing as the the dim lights fell on the golden walls. Shyam looked down at his worn out t-shirt and shorts that sported smudges and a hole each and wrapped his hands over one another. He was out of place.

Raghav came out of this room. With his eyes focused on the clasp of his silver watch, he beckoned Shyam. Shyam watched the building running through the car's window as they reached the store. Raghav went straight for a yellow rimmed Yonex racket on the wall. He carefully placed it in Shyam's hands. Shyam held the weightless racket in his palm and ran his fingers over it. His eyes twinkled as he held it tightly. Raghav bought him a pair of black badminton shoes and two pairs of badminton shorts. He finally headed to the checkout and then handed the white receipt to Shyam. Shyam's eyes widened as he saw the total. He gulped a mouthful of saliva as he counted the zeros on the receipt. The number one hundred and ninety eight was followed by two zeros. Shyam knew that his father had given Raghav twenty thousand rupees. Yet, he had somehow thought that the money was supposed to last him a lifetime, get him through his training to the very least. It was however gone in mere minutes. Shyam hugged the light plastic bag close to his heart as the felt it's weight bear down on his tiny feet. This was no longer something he could do for fun, his entire family's savings were now in his hands, in a plastic bag.

Piyush had dragged Ram to the railway station. The amount of people moving up and down the stairs that connected platforms was more than three times the total amount of people in Ram's village. It was hence perfectly normal for Ram to resist as Piyush took hold of his arm and jumped right into the crowd. Piyush bent his head and whispered into Ram's ears "Watch me." Ram's hands pressed against Piyush's palm, he would not let go of the only familiar face in the crowd. Piyush turned and smiled at him as the crowd carried them along. They were  tiny drops of water in an ocean. Ram's eyes were glued to Piyush's free hand as it slowly slipped into a stranger's bulging back pocket and retrieved a wallet. He quickly placed it into his bag and carried on. Ram's eyes grew wide as he saw policemen at the other end of the staircase. "We will be caught. Shouldn't we run?" he asked. "No, that is the only thing that could get us caught" Piyush said as his pace matched perfectly with the crowd and they were led outside, back to the streets.

As the boys sat with their backs to a tree in the middle of a street. Piyush's hands opened the thick brown wallet and took out a bundle of notes. His fingers went over each note before he said, "Lucky! We have already met the target. We can have the the rest of the day off." Ram's brows creased as he asked, "What is a target?" Piyush's head bent low as his eyes refused to meet Ram's black orbs. "You'll see" he said.

Ram stared at Piyush's back as he got up and patted the dust and mud off himself. He decided then and there that he would not steal. The bundle in Piyush's hand was the biggest he had ever seen but he could not loose himself. After all, his father always said, 'Every thief robs two people. He robs people of something, something that they hold close to their heart, their bread or their happiness yet he steals something much more valuable from himself, a part of his soul.' That evening, Ram realised that some people were theifs because they preferred losing their soul over their bodies.

**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