Raddi

“I won’t leave anything behind,” thought the boy before piling up all the newspapers in the house along with a ream of useful magazines, used notebooks and useless papers. No, this had nothing to do with the PM’s call for cleanliness. The money he’d derive in exchange for raddi would be buying him his favourite comics. To him, the news didn’t matter nor the trends because the world he escaped to was filled with coloured sketches and words trapped in bubbles. And this escape route just happened to pass through the raddiwallah’s shop at the end of every month. 

N.B. The above piece was written for the heck of it. You can read a lot better tales in here. Also, you can write too on a given frame. Won't hurt. Promise.