Murali is the bully of the gang. One of the smartest kids at Snehabhavan, Murali is a fast talker who mouths whatever comes to his mind. I was distributing some chocolates and goodies among the kids, and kept repeating aloud “make way for those who got none”. And time and again, a hand from a red Tee outstretched before me. I was encompassed by the kids and was too busy to notice anyone's face. I had my focus on my bag of chocolates, telling myself each of this child is deserving and I had to be fair , so each handful should contain equal amount of chocolates. But then when I looked up, I saw Murali's face and it struck me. And the next time he stretched out his hand, I gave him a quizzical look. He immediately clarified that it was the first time he is asking for chocolates. While he was telling me this, he put his hands into his pocket, took a chocolate out, unwrapped it , chewed it vigorously and swallowed it at one go. And then he looked at me again and said “Really chechi (Malayalam for elder sister), you din't give me chocolates”. I smile at him and hand him a couple more. There is no gratitude or happiness on his face. He just runs with it and snatches chocolates from the other kids. I silently watch him for a while and decided it was time to interfere.

“Murali”, I called out loud. He didn't seem to listen. Maybe he din't care anymore because he got his share of chocolates. I walked upto him, sat him down and struck a conversation. He wasn't really keen on divulging too many details. There was an air of restlessness about him – the way he spoke quickly, the way he was lazily but frantically swinging his legs. He announced that he wanted to go play football that precise moment. It is then that he shared with me his dream of becoming a successful football player one day. And if its not football that keeps him busy, then he sketches or fights with his friend Raju. “Murali and Raju are dubbed as India and Pakistan”, says one of his friends very confidentially. I'm amused at this piece of information and my amusement is greeted by a look of disapproval from Murali.

I continued my conversation with him and that is when he told me how he accompanied his father to the vegetable market and lost his way back home. “I walked a lot and got no where. Finally I ended up in the railway station, boarded a train and reached here”, said Murali. After he reached Cochin, he wandered around the streets, got lost again and slept in some hospital's corridors. He was handed over to the police, who took him to Child Line, which in turn contacted Snehabhavan. He told me his story with the eloquence of a practised story-teller, with the nonchalance of someone narrating a stranger's story, with not the slightest of emotion playing in his eyes. Made me wonder whether years of narrating the same story caused this. Or maybe, he had learnt the futility of wasting his emotions this way. When I probe further on how he lost his way home, he gives me a sheepish smile. “I was very small then.”, he said. “He ran away from home and that is how he lost his way”, one of his friends added. The skeptic in me didn't want to believe his story. But the realist in me decided to give him the benefit of doubt. After all he is only a child, I told myself. While I was reorganizing my thoughts, he prods me and says “I told you so much, give me another chocolate”. I gave him one more chocolate and I stood there thinking if he was selling me his story for chocolates. A story well sold!!!