A coward can never be a hero. I am that coward. They carried me home upon their shoulders. If only they knew the truth. But a dead man cannot speak, and I would never reveal what really happened. Asim’s burial was quick. Nothing much was left of him. His aged mother shed ample tears and his elder brother shoveled the dirt. Down went Asim into his damp grave, our secret buried alongside him.
I was four when I died for the first time. The village pond had beckoned me into its brown waters, promising me a gallant win in a game of hide-and-seek. I held my breath, only a fool wouldn’t have, before slipping into a murky slumber. They found me floating like a paper boat, ignorant and carefree. No pulse, no breath, gone from this world to another, goodbye baby Savi. Keep on Reading!