Hold my hand

I see Bangalore's ever changing skyline as I look out of my window on this cold morning. I reach out out for my glasses as I try to get a better view of the people who are taking their morning walks in my apartment. Just trying to see if any of my friends are out there already. I go out to the living room. As expected, the house is empty and people who live here have already left for work. Kumar works for a major IT company as the Manager and always leaves early and returns late. Mrs. Sneha Kumar, his wife, also leaves early as she has to travel quite a distance to reach her office. Rajamma, the cook and servant maid, emerges from the kitchen and tells me, "Good morning Arun dear. Now go brush your teeth while I get your Complan ready." I drag my 11 year old feet towards the bathroom to brush. Yes, I am 11 and my name is Arun. Kumar and Sneha are my parents. 30 minutes later, I am ready and all my books are packed and am ready to meet my classmates in 6th standard C section after the Half Yearly Holidays. My day at school is a lot of fun with friends, sports and enjoyable lunch (Rajamma is a great cook). I return home at 6pm only to find the house empty again. Rajamma took my bags at the gate and she had already cooked something for me to eat. Close to 7pm, as I was oing my homework, I heard Sneha enter the room. She came to my room, greeted me, kissed me on my forehead and went to her room. Kumar came half an hour later but did not come to my room. Bad day at work I guess. 8.15pm, Rajamma called out that the dinner was ready. As I got up from my table, I slipped. I fell and cried out, "Amma" in pain. Rajamma came running to me to see if I was ok while Sneha called out to Rajamma from her room to see if I was ok. Little did Sneha realise that, Rajamma was the 'Amma' I called out to. Sneha was just Sneha not Amma.