It is still dark in the city as the sun was yet to wake up at the horizon from his deep slumber late last evening. It seemed he was tired of peeking through the clouds brought about by a cyclone that had ravaged many a southern state and was still streaking to conquer uncharted territories on the Indian west coast trying to make a landfall before it died down. The Ockhi cyclone had made a surprise appearance at the southern tip of India and churned the Indian ocean and the Arabian sea much to the horror of coastal towns and villages and had played with the lives of the fisherman community who had travelled the high seas during the last few days. Though it ran shy of the indian coast so far, the wind the churning waves and the rain had in its grip the towns of Kanyakumari, Nagercoil, the Kerala coast and had ravaged Lakshadweep islands, the damage of which is still to be known.
The newspaper boy had already started his work near one of the many bus stops in the city, trying to sort out the many news papers and magazines that he need to carry across to homes to those news hungry and elderly people who would wait for him for happy tidings as he would swirl the newspaper at them from a safe distance. He still had a good aim to reach somewhere near their outstretched hands, as if it was a offering from the gods at dawn.
But today, the winds and the slight rain had made his job difficult. Navigating his cycle through the pools of water on the streets from the overnight rains, he had to go and find out a dry stretch on the steps of each house where he could safely deliver the paper full of news that should not be drenched while his eager readers this day decided to stay within the safe confines of their home instead of looking out to welcome him.
Running late, he saw the morning sun after so many days in his distribution work. The sun with a mighty effort had finally gathered himself and had started his journey across the still cloudy skies. As he looked down, the only movement he could detect was a tiny boy braving the cold windy weather going to each home with a sheaf of papers…
15 thoughts on “The Boy of Tidings”
Great write up. Congrats and thanks.
Thank you Sir!
Great post ! Salute to the brave boy.
The Ockhi cyclone has created much horror. You painted a lively picture.
Thank you Rekhaji
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Awesome read, Sunith and so well you have described the newspaper boy doing his rounds. The Ockhi cyclone has sure created devastation. Here in Mumbai also it has started raining from yesterday with schools and colleges closed today.
Thank you so much Kamal. Yes i read about its effect on the west coast.
A wonderful piece Sunith. I was missing your posts.
Thank you Rupali. I will write more often.
Sir, for me its just a news but your words showed me the scene, now I can feel the pain and loss . Beautiful ending sir.
Thank you Subbashini for your kind appreciation. Everyday some family meets with some calamity which creates turmoil and tosses their lives upside down churning minds causing great distress. For us those who are not related it is just a piece of news.
That’s so true sir.
I read in the newspapers about the damage that the Ockhi cyclone had done, raging and devastating homes and lives all along its way.
The newspaper is at our doorstep every morning. The very rare days that we did not find it were the only ones that we realize that there are the pains, struggles, sweat and hard work of another human in the process of delivering us the news. Thank you for the reminder, Sunith.
It indeed was a natural disaster that wrecked our coast which was supposed to be immune from such activity and thereby creating a doubt if we took it seriously when it arrived. Thank you for reading. Yes i merged both of them in my reporting…