Rhea looked in awe- the house was so big, so white, everything was spic and span, gleaming in the sun. There were 4 bedrooms, spacious and sunny, filled with lovely things. The best one was the children’s bedroom- filled with toys and books.
She looked forward to a new life, away from the “dungeon” as she called her own home back in the village.
Dim-lit, sparse, no bed to sleep, no toys or books, it was nothing but a dungeon.
“Rhea, can you start mopping the floor” memsaab’s shrill voice pierced through her ears as she quickly came back to her senses and started working.
By time it was 7 pm, she could hardly stand- the day’s chores were not yet over but the bitter truth of life in the real world had sunk into little Rhea’s mind.
A tear trickled down her cheek, she missed her amma’s chapatis. They were dry and most days they managed with pickles but there was warmth, unadulterated love and squeals of laughter as Rhea’s siblings cracked jokes. Her mother usually skipped dinner as she lovingly shared her only roti with her kids.
Rhea longed for her dungeon, she would go back tomorrow, she decided as she fell into a deep sleep, unaware as memsaab locked the door of the room and put the key away.
Image courtesy – pixaby
www.akswrites.com 