A very short story

It is a big white bungalow and it is around 8AM. The watchman runs up to the house door and calls his owner. The owner comes out.

"Sir, that north Indian person has come."

"Who? That big diamond jewellery owner (big in terms of both wealth and size!)? You idiot, how can you make him wait outside the gate? Run, open the gate, apologize to him, allow the car inside. I'll wait here."

"No Sir, not that man. This is our labourer working in your farmhouse. He is going back to his native due to this situation. He has come to request you to give some money for his 'paadhayatra' (not the exact word he used, I changed it for better understanding)."

What comes next is like rewinding and playing back with a small change.

"You idiot. How can you allow him to stand outside my gate? Chase him away. Didn't I give him money for whatever work he has done? Push him away. Iám late for my daily chores."

The watchman runs and tells the man whatever his owner has said.

That poor man is accompanied by his wife and a three years old girl child, who was chewing her dress.

He turns to his wife and in a dejected tone says, "come dear. Let us go. We are like street dogs. If someone offers a bone in this street, we should be loyal to them. And if one day they throw a stone at us we should find another street. Life or death - all the same to us."

That poor man looked above and saw a flock of birds flying towards the south for their survival. 

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Thanks for reading,
R.Bharathram
06/04/2020