Kirsten my "waiter" son.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

hi all,
my letter has been published by Herald today in their section "Letters to the Editor" and the short story I sent a fortnight ago has also featured in Junior Herald. Posting them today for my readers.
From the Heart,

A Pinch of Salt

I read with much amusement today (August 6, 2011), the letter by Mr. B. Ghatge, Senior Manager, PR, KRC in the Herald section “Letters to the Editor”. Regular readers are well acquainted with Mr. Anthony Simoes’ rabid sense of humour and look forward to the tongue-in-cheek ‘pinches of salt’ peppering his writings. We all know that Mr. Simoes takes his readers on flights of fantasy and a ‘middle’ article is not to be taken seriously. I wonder if Mr. Ghatge is intent on defending the KRC or is merely offended at the wrong use of his name. It would seem to me that he suffers from a case of limu pani poisoning and strongly recommend that he try a pinch of salt as an antidote.


Sahir was on his way to school. The winding path, leading to the main road where he caught the bus, was a long one. It passed through a tiny hamlet. Uncle Arnold, a septuagenarian, lived in one of the ancient Portuguese houses all by himself. He would wait every day for the little boy to pass by, greeting him with a toothless smile and sometimes an offer of some delicious toffee or chocolate.
Today, Sahir looked expectantly towards Uncle Arnold’s house but the old man was nowhere in sight. “Whatever could be the matter?” thought the young lad, alarmed. He was debating whether to go in through the gate, when the next door neighbor popped her head out of the window. “Hello, Sahir. Looking for Uncle, are you? He’s not in; had a bad fall yesterday so we had to rush him to the hospital.” she said. Sahir felt sad. He walked off to catch the bus in a morose mood.
At school, Sahir could not concentrate on the lesson. His teacher, realizing that the boy was troubled, took him aside after class and asked what was wrong. Sahir told her the whole story. His teacher advised, “Why don’t you visit your Uncle in hospital? He’ll be happy to see you and you can offer to help look after him when he returns home.” Sahir’s eyes lit up. He thanked his teacher. As soon as he returned home, he told his mother, who promised to take him that very evening.
In the hospital, Uncle was all alone, looking sad and forlorn. His right leg had been put into a cast. Sahir handed him a small bouquet of assorted flowers picked from the garden Uncle tended so lovingly. “Oh, how thoughtful of you to come and see your poor Uncle!” said Uncle Arnold. “Are these from my garden? I hope someone is watering my dear friends for me.” Sahir said he would be happy to do it till Uncle was well again. ‘Come here, little one.” said Uncle, tears glistening in his aged eyes. “You do love your old Uncle, don’t you?” Sahir nodded and hide his face in the Uncle Arnold’s chest. The old man lovingly caressed his head and sighed. “I wish my own children cared as much. They are so far away. I’ve sent them news of my accident but no one has come or called yet.”

PArt two will feature next Monday n I will leave you in suspense till then. :)

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