Holi

“ What the hell are you doing here, can’t you see the bucket is empty , go fast now”, shouted the brat. And what followed the shrillness of the springing teenaged tone were the brisk steps of his little servant.the steps increased in pace till they reached the wet threshold of the bath. He retired into a relaxed state as the water from the tap touched the floor of the bucket, looking steadily towards the falling squall and praying or just murmuring that the bucket was a bit bigger only to delay the arduous task of carrying the filled bucket back. And the murmuring suddenly reversed its lyrics as the water floated on surface and it was time to carry the vessel back.
He mustered all the strength concealed in his poorly nourished bones and picked the vessel up. His steps not brisk but grave this time accompanied by heavy panting meandered towards the front lawns.” You are so slow, idiot” and his master kicked him making him fall against the ground.
The holi morning was paving way for the noon and the poor boy had been sincerely doing his duty of assisting his master and making sure his bucket was always full so that he could not miss even a moments adventure. The little servant was tired but there was this unusual joy that kept him going. The joy of looking at his master squirting colored water gushing out from his opulent pichkari on the passersby. He clapped and jumped as human figures got happily victimized .
The holi verve was fading away. The aroma from the kitchen and the lunch call from his mother made the brat throw away his tools and rush inside. The unprivileged soul stood there looking at his masters forsaken tools. He hesitatingly moved towards them and looked around to avoid being caught in espionage. He bowed and picked up the pichkari, maneuvering all movable parts. He dipped It into the empty bucket and sucked in something canopied by air. He Pointed the empty squirter towards the heartless calm sky and there fell on ground the colorless painful drop of joy.