Our own blood

Anmol was just fourteen when he lost his drunkard father leaving Anmol and his mother in grief, sorrow and uncountable debts. All the burden to pay the debts was on Anmol and his mother. They were living a bad dream and a worse nightmare awaited them. Anmol had an aim to become a great doctor. Unfortunately there was no stethoscope around his neck instead there was a towel on his shoulders and a tray in his hands with which he used to serve tea in a tea stall. His mother worked as a maid. They were both struggling to get out of the darkness even in the brightest of the daylights. Anmol was often beaten black by his master for making mistakes. At times like these he often remembered his father because neither did his father's hands stopped before going on his mother nor did Anmol had the courage to make them so. The wounds healed but the pain didn't. Before going to bed he starred at the night sky looking at the uncountable stars, finding his father in one of them. 

One afternoon, Anmol was at the stall cleaning the utensils. The weather was cloudy. A mad man was walking along side the road and he came and stood infront of the stall. He had long hair, his beard was huge, he had torn clothes, dirty face and on that face he wore something, a creepy smile. He sat on a bench in the stall and ordered tea. The stall owner was about to throw him out when he shouted at him, "Let me sit here, let me have my freedom I never had" he shouted.

" What freedom are you talking about" asked the shopkeeper looking a bit confused.

"Freedom to be happy, freedom to be not dead inside while being alive. This world is cruel, we have dreams and people shatter them and most of the times it is our own blood and people who shatter our dreams. I had a dream, my father died, my mother eloped and the rest is infront of your eyes." his smile grew wider as a drop of tear fell from his eyes. 

"Who are you?"

"A messenger" the mad man started laughing.

The shopkeeper did not waste any time kicking him out. Anmol came in a doubt. He went running to his home after work and saw that his mother was not there. Few hours later he realised that his life is quite similar to that of the old man's. 

Next day Anmol didn't go to work. Few people in his locality entered his house, broke the gate that was locked inside and on entering his room they saw that Anmol had run away, run away to a better world. A note was found later in his room and guess what was written. ''Most of the times it is our own blood people who shatter our dreams.''