He was too small and skinny. His hair strands were dry and it seemed like it had not been oiled for months. The shirt on his body was there for namesake and the trousers did not fit his lanky legs. He periodically used to lift his trousers up to fasten it with a belt, in place of which he wore a rope!!!

A tea point in the neighbourhood Raju has always been the customers favourite for his apparent dimpled smile and his easy belting out of bollywood numbers. He worked in a tea stall which resided in our neighbourhood. We did not have any clue about his age but assumed that he was younger than ever.

Whenever me and some of our friends would take an evening walk or play our usual games in the morning we would find him busy working or completing his daily chores with a big smile plastered on his face but we could make out that it hid a great feeling of annoyance and grief which was bursting inside him.

I couldn't stop thinking how a child can be made to work like this when it's time for them to be at school.

Raju had a great urge of learning the English language. Out of curiosity he would often come to my brother and ask him that how does children study at school to which he would get taunting remarks. He would even wear the Friday uniform of some school which was given by a resident from our neighbourhood.

He worked so hard that he didn't even have time to take at least forty winks.

Those innocent eyes and the vivid smile would always strike me when I got dressed for school. I would always pray to god to give him a better future.

One day I found him sitting at a bench placed at an isolated corner in the park. His head was hung low. I wondered what might have happened and slowly paced towards him. I sat beside him and to my horror I found him sobbing. I asked him for the reason to which he said that his father was ill and he didn't have money to spend for his treatment. I was a bit taken aback by his reply. I asked by comforting him, "Where do you live?" he turned pale and with a shivering voice said, "I live way out in the boondocks." I was a bit shaken, so this time I raised my guts and asked him in a more soothing tune, "What about your parents? What do they do?"

He froze for a moment but without hesitation gave a bold reply, "I belong from a poor family. My mother is a part-time worker and my father is a drunkard. The only ray of hope lies in my earnings." By saying these lines he left me alone in the bench. The crisp air surrounded me as I gazed towards the fiery colours of the setting sun covered by the moonlit and star studded canvas. A soft tear strolled down my cheek. I could feel the burning sensation inside me. I couldn't believe my own ears.....

                                                                                           ***

It's been ten years since then, I have not seen Raju. I work as a social activist now and fight for child labour. Child labour is a dangerous issue that deprives children off their childhood. I am 23 now and I fight for children like Raju who are prey to this. Those glittery eyes filled with innocence, the plastered smile, the tender hands carrying hot tea cups and the urge of going to school like us will always be glued to my memory.

After all, "Small hands can handle a pen better." 

Author's note: I hope you all liked the story, it was way too short maybe but then as I mentioned earlier I tried my best to emphasise on the topic of child labor. Comments and votes are heartily accepted. Don't hesitate to correct me if there's anything not up to the point! After all people learn from their mistakes.. <3