A new friend

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Dressed in patches, he was moving.

“In which direction?”, you may ask.

Well, just like the taxi-driver

Who hadn’t been told where to go,

His legs were carrying him over the roads

In first gear, consuming very little fuel.

 

There was no work for the steering wheel.

The road was straight.

But his feet were crying.

They didn’t have extra rubber for extra life.

But still, he was moving (almost).

The batteries needed charging, and he stopped.

 

When he fell, something hard struck his head.

He picked the stone, still in pain.

When the pain resided, his eyes opened. And stayed open.

A surge of joy and disbelief passed through his spine.

In his hand, before his eyes, was a huge diamond.

In a flash, the batteries got charged; he was moving again.

 

Well hidden behind the bushes,

He feasted his eyes upon the diamond.

He thanked his stars and all the Gods.

Then it struck him hard – fear.

Fear that he may lose it.

Fear that he’ll be thought a thief and arrested.

 

He dug a deep hole in the ground where he sat

And buried it.

Dressed in patches, he ordered his legs to move on.

They didn’t.

He thought of cursing this damned world.

But then thought otherwise.

15th April 1996

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