8 Year Old Raghav & his Sunday

It's post noon time. December has departed. On the cusp of the new year, the wind flows mild and cold. The sky is cloudy. Eagles are gliding the sky. Pigeons are fluttering at neighbourhood windows and the rooftops. Cats are, as always, alert to their tune. Raghav, an eight year boy has just eaten his lunch. It's sunday today. Schools are closed. There is no homework. Festivity is in the air. The small town that Raghav belongs to is still, calm and playing an unhearable music thru its various ways.

Raghav lives across the playing ground which is lying empty at the moment. Staying inside the house feels cozy, so he came to the roof. There is a big black water tank sitting at the edge. The floor is dusty. His mother has planted Basil, roses, lily flower, marigold and vegetables on the roof. Raghav's eye caught the many new flowers and he approached them merrily. He then tries to find a clean place to sit, relax and dream with his open eyes. He hangs by the edge of balcony overlooking the vast lonesome space, the dynamic of playful nature and the passing people. He could see at the deserted highway and the age-old series of Eucalyptus trees. Their leaves are dry and falling on the ground. Like his mind, there is a piece of used polythene flying randomly in the air.

Raghav knows no politics, only that the textbooks told him that country's leaders are great and that we have a rich history. Raghav is unaware of the ensuing depression in the economy. His stomach is full. His three room apartment is large enough to accommodate his soul. He has a safe in which he deposits his coins. He has siblings whom he plays with. He watches funny colorful cartoons in the television. At times he wonders of the vividity and coldness of the real life. He always fell short of understanding it. He wonders and remain perplexed. He often compares himself with other kids of his age.

Raghav went downstairs and came back with an old newspaper which he swirl across the floor. He is wearing a newly handwoven half-sweater. It's dark red and is a bit large over his shoulders. He removed his slippers and laid down over the newspaper, watching the fast moving clouds upwards. At some distance, he could listen the sound of krishna bhajan been played over the loudspeaker. The sound comes and goes along with the cold wind. 

There is nothing in his mind. He feels free, yet constraint by something. Raghav wishes to be a wizard. He loves magic. He wants to fly. He has seen several dreams where he saw himself flying, just like those birds in the sky. But Raghav does not want to remain at one place. He wants to go far away and see new places. He wants to encircle the world. His eye is searching for a mystery in the air. He wants to discover something. He is curious about life. The sun would be visible for a short time and then be covered by the clouds intermittently. For an hour, he remained quiet and then fell asleep. Raghav's mother also came calling him to the roof after her day's chore was over, "Raghu! Raghu! Where are you?". She would accompany her child and spend some time relaxing. In the evening, Raghav would go to the playground to play with his friends.