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Speed
It was a perfect sub-story for the films, except that it was real. The central figure, Ramu, was a skinly child with his elbows supporting a pair of hands almost as flat as a measuring scale. And he was near blind. About of high fever in his childhood had destroyed one cornea and severally damaged the other one. Again, as in the moves, he had lost his father, while still in embryo. His father had left the village in search of a job.
The search ended, with a telegram informing the expectant mother that her husband was dead. She never saw the body. To add to her travails, she was still young and not uncommonly.
Ramu had an elder brother the naughtiest child we had come across. He was supposed to be a help for my wife. Actually, it was the other way round. She would even wash his clothes. The daily morning ritual of waking him up was something I dreaded. He had perfected the art of sleeping while standing. With his round, oval face he looked the picture of innocence. It was, he who become the cause of our involvement.
As his hands felt the softness of the cushions. I couldn't help looking back. He had the most melodious voice I had heard for years, like the thinking of small bells.