Me and Martha

Blending the acoustic of his accordion with the percussion of his drums, David seemed quite worried.

‘How is this going to happen? My first show ever and that too with Stivens Merrick.’

Martha was watching the very handsome David’s face. “He is worth dying for.” She thought to herself.

The people had already adjusted themselves in their seats and were waiting for the show to begin. All eyes riveted towards the stage, with apprehensions equal on both sides.

Sitting near the refugee camp, east of Africa, a seventeen year old poor boy with a baby in his arms seems to be distressed. His sister’s ‘rape baby’ looks at him with his intent eyes and gives a loud cry as if saying ‘I am hungry’.

He looks at him. “You are the outcome of an incident that has dragged life out of my sister, but you will live to see this world.”

And suddenly the baby starts howling again.

How treacherous can life be. At this point of time, his promise made to the baby seemed to be slipping out of his hands. Hands that were holding him, a mass of flesh and blood- starved and all ready to die.

But where do I buy you milk from. His poverty and refugee status was a clear answer to his situation.

Control over life by man seemed to be such a farce.

Then like a gust of wind for a struggling little kite, a beautiful dark woman appears from nowhere and takes the skeleton from the boy’s hands and takes a look at him.She gives a deep cry, of ‘mercy’ and presses the baby to her milk swollen bosom. The baby starts suckling like a gluttonous little monster.

The boy looks at the woman’s face, an expression of fulfilment and being absolute, garnering all the expressions together.

As the strumming of the guitar begins Martha sees David all lost in his world.

And then, abruptly there is an announcement on the microphone. “This one is for Martha, the woman who has allowed me to grow, literally.”

And he begins with the song,

“As I grew up…I saw the shadows that stalked me
As I grew up…. I saw people who mocked at me
But somebody just knew what I wanted
Like a lighthouse for the men lost at sea
Like fragrance of a flower for a hard working bee
She gave me the nectar called life
thanks mom, thanks to you….”

There was no applause when he finished- that set the seal on his success, he bowed and withdrew amid silence. Still none moved in the hall, until after some time, it was filled with thunderous applause.

The word mom filled Martha’s heart. ‘He is worth dying for’ she thought to herself.

Plunged in reverie she leaves the hall to finally tell the world that ‘her son had grown up.’

"But neither me nor David's mother will ever forgive you Peter."

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I am not a story writer.
I had thought of sending the story in the competetion that nothingman had mentioned, but checking out such good entries there i felt a little out of place...anyways this one will adorn my blog only. Also it was supposed to be called 'Growth' but now i am going to call it, 'Me and Martha'