Al-Hasan Al-Basri : "kalian tidak lebih dari sekumpulan hari-hari, setiap pergi satu hari, maka berarti pergi juga sebagian dari kalian" Rusdin

Selasa, 28 Mei 2013

Short Story


A child cried alone in a basket of fruits. A passer by looked around, seeing none around in this locality of Old Delhi. He called around and hurriedly left the place before someone could see him. Another car passed by, a couple around 40 stopped by, saw the child, waited around and called 101. It was past midnight. Not many lights were on in the houses nearby. The couple picked up the child and cuddled it. It felt as if it was their own child. The hugged it and hurriedly left the place with the child in the car. Probably they did not want the police to take it from them. It was a girl and they did not have one even in 15 years of their marriage. A cute one. One window on the 3rd floor of a wretched house, Neelam kept crying in her old house at GB Road till she finally fell asleep. The most peaceful sleep she ever had. Her daughter wouldn't have to live that life ever.