The Toy

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Bhagyesh and I were travelling to Mumbai. Bhagyesh always loved knowing new people, Knowing new cultures, their lifestyles. After our work Bhagyesh said, let’s go and visit a residential colony. That’s the heart of the city. That’s where the real life is.

I hesitated; I was scared if the city is safe for the strangers. Bhagyesh just picked up his Swiss knife and said. “This will do, we are safe”.

In a signal a girl approached us and asked us if we buy any toy from her. For what I know about Bhagyesh he always liked helping the poor. He also was a kid when it came to toys. He bought a fancy looking toy car.

We continued until we reached the Sahayadri colony. The colony was buzzing with life. We went through the small streets.

There was a little girl looking and smiling at all the passer by. Bhagyesh got too attracted to the innocent smile. He said, “Here; take it” he generously gave away his new toy. We continued our ‘exploration’ around the colony. Suddenly I realized that Bhagyesh wasn’t walking with me anymore. I turned around looking for him.

Suddenly there was a loud cry from a woman. Everyone around there, shocked, started running to where the cry came from.

What I saw there was a horror scene of my life. The little girl lay there, with her throat cut. Bhagyesh’s Swiss knife blade was dripping with blood. He muttered only two words, “toy’s mine”.

The girl’s grandmother stood there with the lemon in hand and a black doll with a cut throat.

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