A Bit of the Real

It was dark.... and moist... The air was heavy.. and the lungs tried hard to breathe.. The heart was pounding in the rib-cage... And in the stomach, there was fire... It was not anger. It was hunger. The man with the mic announced... "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I am going to introduce among you, our very own.. Shivcharan Sharma..." There was a thunderous applause. Someone whistled. It was darkness. Dad could not see anything, either because of his hunger, or because it was too dark.. Why was he there? He couldn't know... He looked around. His son was nowhere.. "Mr. Sharma, all our audience out there wants to know how you attained such a success in your business.... could you oblige us by a few words.."? Dad looked at himself. His clothes were rags. His skin was dirty. His nails were uncut. He didn't know what to say. Was it a joke? he thought. "Mr. Sharma.. your wife has been a vital support to you. She played an important role in your progress. Could...

It was cold, the sun risen, Respectably high in the sky; White clouds spread around, And some late birds passing by; Carrying him in her arms; There she was, on the bed; She stared at him and then the dad, What a nice gift they had had! His face was bright as the sun, So sugar-sweet was his smile; Starry bright were his eyes, Happiness flowed like the Nile! At last, mom and dad looked at each other, and then their baby. "Wow..", dad whispered ".. now we are mummy and daddy.." "Not just two of us, dear!" mom replied, plucking his nose "It's mummy, daddy, and our sweetu sweetu baby.." "Well.." dad wondered, "We can't call him a baby all the life..!" "????" "He must have a name...!" "He HAS a name... !" "Well, you didn't tell me..." "I did... remember the night at the riverside? That shooting star...??" "Yes, I remember.... it was a cool summer night.. and suddenl...