And life shall go on!

I stood there, with my hands numb from the cold running water,which seemed to have been now flowing into my veins,and mixing with the now stationery blood in it. I saw a visitor come in from the door,and scream out "WAAITER", in a semi-drunken and hoarse voice. Another of the people who I dreaded. He was pretty much regular down here. I had been immersed in my own thoughts,until I realized that I was the one who he had been calling out. "You bastard,can't hear!?"
I immediately became aware of my absent mindedness and ran off to his table and politely asked him "Ji sahab?" He blurted off a name of some drink which I randomly put into my mind,and blurted out to the bar keeper. I went outside and took a gasp of air into my lungs,which seemed to purify the dirt in them that had been penetrating within since immortality. But anyway..you don't have the prettiest of lives with a so-called salary of "4 rupaya per day", nor is it easy to survive without any parents.
Time was nearing to around 1:00 a.m.

Nobody here cares about time ! I heard this song once,some rich memsaab had it playing on that small and weird machine which they call i-pod. How does music fit into such a teenie weenie thing? Anyway, the song went "Na baap bada na bhaiya..sabse bada rupaiya!" These lines seem applicable and most apt for the conditions faced by each Mumbai-ite who visits this shady place called "Baba bhai ki nukkad ki dukaan"
This shop has supplies of every thing, every damn thing you may imagine. Right from a match to a bag of cocaine. They call it "drugs" no? Even I do them. Who cares if I'm only 10? Sometimes when people spit the peek of paans in front of the shop,I don't mind licking them down. Feel like puking on this? Be it. Thats my food. I see so many kids of my age walking down this lane hundreds of times in a day. Each wearing the finest clothes,and clad in the best of glasses, munching a big bag of chips and Kurkure ! Don't I love nibbling on the left-overs of the Kurkure packets they throw away in the dustbins!!
The shop I work in is not a big one..its just one of those small shops you see everyday,selling small yet useful stuff. Each day passes in the blink of an eye..most of the time you can see my washing and cleaning the bartans until they get gleamy and shiny. My boss even hits me with a thick cane that he keeps hidden under his chair,if I don't wash them properly a

nd there is a single stain on them. I still don't mind..he was kind to keep me as his servant,when my farther murdered my mother..and even he,later died of poverty.
My boss doesn't send me to school, he is afraid I will become over smart and run away. These days, Obama is a rage. And Obama becoming the president of Amreeka really doesn't bother me. My only concern is getting a handful of grains in my lunch everyday..I would care less if the sensex crashed by ten thousand points !
You think I'm complaining..but no,I am not. I don't even want your life..a life as a selfish and ignorant brat who doesn't even know the value of the things you get in life. You well off people are so darn full of complaints,and you NEVER cherish the proper meal you may get !
But anyway..I have to stop telling my story to you now..its time that another drunkard dropped on the door, and asked for some food.

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The above is a story of a small child labourer..need I say anymore.