The Polka Dots

Mr. Kumar unlocked the alluring kids’ bedroom. Ceiling painted in turquoise reflected the day sky and glow stickers coruscated like the canopy of stars at night.The pink chandelier in the center of the room gave the look of a blossoming flower sprouting from Gulmohar tree boughs.

However, the show stealers were the polka dots across the wall. Speckled in all seven shades of rainbow, they brought life to the room. You could almost hear the kids’ laughter reverberating from within ,beckoning you to hold hands and play with them the games of childhood.

“Poor Sharmas, their children didn’t even get to spend one day in this lovely painted room.”, sighed Mr. Kumar, as Mrs. Kumar shut the door behind her for the last time.

The sudden disappearance of their two kids was too much of a trauma to Mrs. Sharma’s failing health. In her final days, she had grown so insane that she blamed Mr. Sharma for whatever happened to them. What could the helpless Mr. Sharma do? The local police had declared the children dead. Although their bodies were yet to be discovered, Mr. Sharma had long given up on the yearning desire to even arrange for a proper farewell for the innocent young souls.What could have they possibly done to have life snatched away so brutally from the bosom of childhood?

“Its 7 pm. She must have been moved to the State Asylum near the city borders. They say she has been faltering day by day.”

“He must be miles away from the city now. Who would want to come back to the very place where you witnessed your heaven burn down to ashes of hell?”

With a last look at the beautiful house -dark clouds looming over it, they walked away to the brokers to hand over the keys as Mr. Sharma had instructed.

Miles away, Mr. Sharma stared at the State Asylum building. He kept one hand on the steering and the other was clasped tightly in the arms of the woman sitting next to him.

“It was brilliant of you Sharmaji! Who would have thought polka dots could hide blood stains on the wall!”

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