(Hey readers,
Today I had a very low day and I am gonna roast you with my talks so..
Stay healthy and stay happy!!!
Regards,
Author)
"Their father would go to the village administrative center which was itself in 6-7 kilometer walking distance which was traveled through his now going rust feet in every interval of 2 days in a hope that he would get his children letter...
But this hope continued to break and broke...
No more letters made their way to their house...no more laugh..no more stammering....just silence.
However, this silence was in the home but for people of known society, it was the moment of slugging the injury.
'Cause society has got a big mouth...
Everyone gave their fake shoulders and started to fill up broken family's ears with lots of 'What-ifs?!'
'What-if' they have separated from their family as modern people do?!
'What-if' they have started their own new life on their terms?!
'What-if' they have married some-English woman of the city?!
'What-if' they are dead?!
And every what if grew the family's hope to shattered...
With this last iron nail hammered into the wall-sized belief of great grandpa, Great-grandpa departs from the village anxious to see his sons in one piece.
He might have trekked from one bus to another then one train to another train and finally reach the city through the postal address via which the letter used to come, in which Hercule and his brother claim to work and live...
He went to the rented house which was registered as the postal address through the post office and he went close to the door and knock on the door...