Karan

The first of January, twenty-twenty-two –
I had awoken quite late, as one was expected to do
after a night of celebration with friends…
after a new year begins as its predecessor ends.

My mum was reading the news, and didn’t reply
when I wished her a good morning, and to find out why,
I looked at her - and saw moisture in her eyes.
She’s the emotional kind, someone who cries
whenever someone is wronged, or in pain, or hurt.
I wanted to see what had given birth
to the tear she let fall;
I made my way across the hall
to where she sat, with the paper in hand
I glanced downwards at the section and
I read the headline - “Father beats son to death
for stealing fifty rupees.”; I took a heavy breath
and I read further. Now I don’t cry –
as a person, I never have, even when I
come across the worst sorts of news.
Putting this aspect of my personality to use,
I shrugged simply, and turned away.
Little did I know that the story would haunt each day,
each week, each month that came next.
Even I was somewhat perplexed
by how the news stayed firmly in my mind.
As much as I wanted to leave it behind,
I couldn’t. I guess some things just stay
no matter how much you try to push them away.
These stories - they happen very often
Everyday you hear someone gets put into a coffin
because of suicide, or of murder – intentional or not…
but why was this particular article such a disturbing thought?
I still think of the boy - he was only ten
Not much younger than my own brother was then.
I try not to, but I imagine the screams,
the wails at being beaten – and it seems
that the father held not one ounce of remorse!
He spent the night beside his son’s corpse.
Fifty rupees – it might have been wrong to steal,
but was it worth a wound that will never heal?
Did it warrant breaking your own son’s skull?
A boy is in no way an animal to cull.
His name was Karan, I remember clearly
and one small mistake cost him dearly.
The father sits in prison now –
Even three years later, I wonder how
someone could do that to a little boy…
What sort of sadistic joy
did the father get?
I don’t think I can ever forget.

I read somewhere the best thing to do
is to find a silver lining in difficult times.
Now I know for sure that this isn’t true –
Not for these kind of crimes…
I hope that young Karan, who lost his life,
who endured the worst kind of strife,
now enjoys a better, happier place –
Away from the horrors he had to face.