The Reaper

Written by Asish Sridhar

Edited by Jairaj Vij

Illustrated by Shravan Bakkiyaraj

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Bills due, repayment is missing.

Door damaged, pipes hissing.

Bills late, debt is to be collected.

Payments loaned, ready to be deducted.

The house on collateral, property to be reallocated,

But for her children she must appear elated.

To avoid a bid for the auction,

To the children she refuses to bid adieu.

She promises to pay up to avoid a merchant’s downpayment,

A month’s time, the bank says it’s not worth the investment.

Her voice rang high, the prey and predator debated.

But for her children, the mother could not bear to be defeated.

The house is rotting and the vulture starts circling,

A pad pulled out, a pen adding to the listing.

However, a child appears, tears in his eyes.

A broken but determined soul.

Eyes wet, he is bawling,

Yet his spirit is brawling.

The vulture is stricken.

A far cry from monetisation,

He feels a cry of indignation.

The vulture questions his next move.

The sound attracts a flock of orphans.

More aspirations.

The vulture hesitates,

Struck by the life radiating from their eyes,

Many dreams and imaginations.

The vulture feels, despite flying in circles for as long as he can remember.

It’s his job, just a messenger, but he holds the trigger.

The children make promises for the future.

The vulture questions his nature.

They do not just make promises, but rather choose to show,

A dozen drawings, a stack of stories and poems,

Are piled up around and below.

However, the price for him is costly,

A difficult investment …

He observes the children, who are hellbent,

On finding a way.

In exchange for sparing their flesh,

He suffers a stripping of rank.

The vulture chooses which way to point the trigger.

He faces demotion, And yet,

He feels a new sense of motivation.

He puts his badge on the line, his job security.

A badge which had come from a track record of excellence.

He requests the bank for a month’s continuance,

To fight for the orphanage’s existence.

Greeted with a group hug, his heart tugged.

The vulture’s appetite had diminished.

He had come upon not corpses to feast,

But fertile soil for his investments to reap.

He remembers where the true investment lies.