Dreams To Die For

"Can I have a sip ?" asks a little boy

Looking earnestly at a bottle full of water.

For the millionth time this morning, he heard the same reply,

"No, that's all we have left."

Little boy wonders what ""all we have left" means.

Aren't these tents they spend their days in,

These pitchers filled with stinking water,

These packets of biscuits that men and women fight for,

These mosquitoes and bees that canopy over their heads all the time,

These muddy slippers, ragged bed sheets, torn mufflers and splintered cardigans,

These days they spend in hunger and nights they growl in pain,

Aren't all of these theirs ?

Last week, just like every other week,

He saw some people.

They came in a van, they had big gadgets that they were pointing at everyone,

He knew these gadgets are not guns,

Because mothers weren't covering their babies,

Men weren't running for cover,

Girls were not crying for mercy.

These people were asking everybody questions.

He heard some men mention the word - "reporters"

They were asking about food, water, diseases.

They were using big words like 'peace' and 'prosperity'

They had questions for kids too.

They came up to him,

Asked him his name, his dreams, his home.

'Dreams' - he was aware of this word

Seconds before the grenades landed on their roof, his father had mentioned this word.

He remembered his family was hiding in the cellar,

When rockets and bullets were piercing their town from every direction.

He told his father he wanted to take a look at the street,

People had opinions that the streets looked nothing like before,

He asked his father that if everything is over, what are they left with ?

“You have your dreams, my son. They can never be snatched away from you. No bombs, no explosions, no ammunitions can distance you from what you dream for. Your dreams are to die for” – his father replied.

Little boy thought a lot,

His friend who dreamt of being a footballer died two days ago of malaria.

His nanny who dreamt of being a singer was killed in an explosion

His bully at school who dreamt of being a police officer could not be rescued from under the rubble of his house in time.

Maybe his father was right,

As a refugee, their dreams were indeed to die for.