An Innocent Canvass

Life starts when you are born and education starts at school. Well, it is a myth if u ask me because education also starts from the moment we are born. It is rightly said that home is where we pick up habits, and knowledge too. That's why the nature of parents can determine whether the kid becomes a human or the enemy of the world.

Mind you, this conversation ahead might not apprehend the absolute logic of a child's brain work but my intention is simply to look at things with a child's innocence and find some answers you were having trouble finding before. Hope you find it interesting.

"A... B... C... D... E... F... G... H...

I don't know what comes after that"

Little Lenin sounded confused.

"Come on now, son, study well for we

are spending so much money on that."

his mother expressed her worries.

"Are you worried about my education or

just about the money, mother?"

the boy asked without any intentional prejudice.

"Is this the way to talk to your elders?

Don't talk back to your mother like this."

his mother turned the questions back.

"So, will the elders never be questioned,

when they commit any wrong?"

the kid was persistent on his path.

"No, the other elders take care of that,

and you needn't worry about that, sweetie."

the woman tried to sweeten the mood.

"Then what happens when all the elders are

of the same age, who decided then?"

the boy had his math worked out.

"Well, people can decide who is right or

wrong based on moral codes and laws."

the felt intrigued by the interview."

"So, if only moral codes are the standard,

then why can't we question the elders?"

the boy was starting to make sense.

"Oh God, why did you make him like

this and not like a normal child?"

his mother cried in despair.

"Mother, Am I not your child? and why

am I not a normal kid?"

the boy was confused with the statement.

"Of course you are my son. It is just you

always ask so many questions."

his mother sighed a little patting on his head.

"Isn't asking right questions the only way to

get the right answers, mother?"

the son picked a good point from the books.

"Yes, I am sorry. It was my mistake and you

are everything of a normal child."

the mother was worried about hurting his feelings.

"If I am your son, how can God make me?

Wasn't I born from you, mother?"

the son was still confused about his maker.

"Yes, you were. Nine months full. But God

gave you to us as a gift for our life"

the woman slowly resented to calmness.

"So if God gave me to you, then how

am I your son? Am I adopted?"

his words caught the women's nerves.

"No, I gave birth to you, but it is God,

who controls everything in this world."

his mother chanted some mantras after that.

"But if God controls everything. Then why

did he make Amith's family poor?"

the boy remembered his friend's torn uniform.

"He tests the people in mystical ways but

then make them wealthy in the end."

his mother said staring at the roof.

"Then, isn't his father supposed to be wealthy

by now? He was tested for a long time."

he felt bad for his friend's family.

"I told you not to play with those kids

across the street. They are bad influences."

his mother shifted the blame quickly.

"But why are they bad influence, Mother?

They are also kids like me, myself."

the boy had a frown over his face.

"Because they are poor, not our Religion or Caste.

Such people should be kept at a distance."

his mother pulled him close and whispered.

"But you said there is only one all-powerful God

and how can there be so many different people?"

his puzzled look was no comfort for the woman.

"Well, some believe in other Gods too, but only

ours is the true one in existence. Stand for that."

the woman again chanted some mantras along.

"If our God is true, how come we have different castes.

Will a mother discriminate between her own children?"

the boy sighed and his eyes were sparkling wide.

His mother's eyes were running aloft. She looked for

the answer repeatedly, but failed each time until

she realized the truth she knew all along.

"Are you okay, Mother? We are all God's

children, right? Every life in the world."

the son enquired watching his bewildered mother.

"Yes, sweetie. I'm just fine. Sorry that I couldn't

have asked that myself when I was a kid"

the woman's voice broke...

...at regular intervals, as she said

" Wait here, I'll make some sweets for

you and your friends. They are my children too."

The woman forgot to chant any mantras

this time when she fled to the kitchen.

Little Lenin buried himself in the books again.

The End.

It has to be understood that Kids are vulnerable and, at the same time, capturing at a small age itself. Their views in 21 might have already formed when they are 7 years of age itself.

Our brains might have been rotten with the wastes of this caste, religion, race, and all other kinds of discrimination. Let the coming generations be free of those unwanted thoughts.

Live and let live. Be Kind and Judge less. Lose Hatred. Spread Love.