The other world 

The thunderous clap of the roaring machine went right over the roof.I rushed out with my tongs to see the aircraft that left a trail of the tricolour in the air.

The kids ,my age, outside were on their bikes with little flags stuck to their handles .

The mithaiwala at the corner had a sea of customers for his special ‘tiranga sweets’.

My eyes filled up with tears as I heard the faint reverberation of “Vande Mataram” from the school that I had to drop out of when I was eight.

Baba came outside from our hut and said,”Be quick about the bangles son. Freedom isn’t for us.”

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