Can "I" be Us again?

It's not long since the last "Bang" has been felt, causing much havoc.People were rushing, not exactly seeing what lies in front, not noticing what the outcome will be, just life was the most important thing to keep safe. Many lives were changed that day , many destroyed and many even departed. Houses, buildings?....Nothing left to speak about these .There is a small rusty hut where a small 10 years old boy , Aylan, lies in his untidy, mismatched bed , by the window through which he is watching towards the broken parts of buildings, his people's sweat, lying upon all these has been blurred and shattered by the smoke of the 'BANG'. A fine woman enters his room followed by an old woman who were his unfortunate mother and grandma. His mother,Salma stands by his bed , holding a tray containing two or three bowls whereas his grandma sits by his sullen head . As she touches the bandage , he feels like the air of heaven just passed through here .Broken legs, bony, tender, scarlet hands , these are such ironies of his fate."What he has been turned into!", she speaks in her head. Aylan used to run like a horse, scamper like a kangaroo and speak of mischief? Don't ask. He was pretty famous for this in his locality before the "Bang". His mother stands stiff, deep inside she is broken as she looks away from him , passing the tray to his grandma.

As soon as the old lady takes it ,Salma gets out , wiping her nose. "Sit up,dear. Food is here. Come on now, get up," she is talking so sweetly with a curved smile and a look like an angel , so soft yet resilient. Aylan somehow gets up , sits on his bed leaned over a pillow. Grandma puts a seat and passes the soup bowl to him .Ah! Vegetable soup! His sworn enemy . " I don't wanna have these . They don't taste good.", he groans and eventually starts his best weapon , baby crying method. But grandma takes the bowl to her hand, dunks the spoon into it , takes out some and blows the warmth away so that he can enjoy. So that her heart can soothe. " Do you know what they are? " , she asks him, softly."Vegetables! " , he growls .

"No dear. They are you." He can notice the softness in her weak voice "How?", he asks in astonishment. She starts to explain and he swallows like candy.

"These grow on various soils, collected and sent to the market, people track the needful ones and chaffer. Therefore those are washed off their filth , shaped into pieces with much care, a tweak of salt ,pepper , oil and these form as one tasteful material. Then presented in a beautiful position ,in front of people sitting together , it alleviates distance, offering much amusement ", she sighs.Suddenly he notices , the rest of the family members are back, but unfortunately not his father, of course father can't as his father has been long gone to the land of no return. "Hey , buddy! Feeling better today?", his uncle asks . Others also gathered around in front one by one,touches his hair, scrambles it. His brother , aunty, grandpa, his sister , all gathering. "Food is here!" , Salma suddenly calls out and they all gather around the floor to sit. "See there and you will get it," grandma is whispering in his ears , indicating towards the rest of the members as they enjoy eating . He thinks to himself ,"They are not even asking what it is made of because known for sure, it won't hurt them but adjoin." He doesn't look away. He knows now what grandma meant .It would seem,he definitely gave a grave thought. "Got it ,grandma",and he gives a wink. Suddenly he notices that he has finished his meal, actually grandma made him eat vegetables using the trick, a trick that has been working for ages just to peek into the edifice of the curiosity of the children. Salma stands outside , holding another bowl into palms, watching the place of amalgamation , craves if trust and love had dominance wholly and prevailed till the end ,over all these barriers that left us in aloofness, all alone.