Out of a couple of million people commuting daily on Delhi Metro, this child had a unique seat.
Usually hustling and jostling for an empty seat, no one seemed interested in his. They, in fact, silently prayed that they never get to sit on it.
There was no curious eye-contact asking the perpetual question: “Are you getting down at the next station?”
The boy was in wheel-chair.
A rare sight indeed, considering the rush that throngs the Metro.
He seemed at peace as his father stood guard, and his mother and sister chatted casually about the approaching stations. Owing to the usual concourse of the passengers, they were unable to secure any seat for themselves. Nobody offered it to them too!
That child’s seat was red in color, as if it was his favorite toy.
His spirit was free of any limitation; his eyes shining with curious queries.
Though made to limp and trudge on feet, his heart flew with wings of a bird that he saw through the window of that accelerating Metro.