The  one-year old bawled louder, as the mother avoided picking him up. She was pregnant for the second time and the doctor had forbidden her to carry any weights.

“Blessed with such an adorable son and shunning him,” chided the grandmother. “God answered my wish for a grandson. You dare neglect him!”

The mother obliged.


“I wish to have that now!” Cried the three-year old pointing towards the shiny red toy car on display at the toy-store. The mother tried pulling him away, as he lay on the floor, banging his fists.

“Stop it, lady. My son deserves the best.” Said the father as he flashed his credit card and stormed into the shop.


 “I wish I could be the first to ride that swing, Dadu!” Exclaimed the five-year old as he saw the long queue of kids waiting for their turn on the new swing at the park. The mother looked away as the grandfather surpassed all the other children and put his precious grandson on the prized seat.


 “I want that Lego set. It was on my wish-list first.” Wailed the eight-year old, eyeing his sister’s birthday gift. The mother hid it. When the sister asked for it, it was nowhere to be found. The mother sighed as she spotted remnants of a torn Lego box with its familiar contents scattered all over the colony dump- yard.


 “New I-pad?” exclaimed the twelve-year old, admiring his father’s latest buy. And then with a forlorn face, he added “I wish my old laptop had better network compatibility, allowing me to research undisturbed for my project at school.”

“Keep this, beta!” the father said ,giving him the brand new gadget . “Your project is important. All the best.” The mother watched in despair. Many an evening after that saw her words of wisdom drowned out  by a cacophony of  senseless you- tube videos and mindless videogames.


“I want you to be my girlfriend.” The fifteen-year old told the new girl in class.

“Wishful thinking.” Came the curt reply.

Nasty rumours and vulgar, morphed videos about the girl spread like wildfire around school. The mother bit her lip as she heard her son laughing and confiding to a friend, “Gave it back to the bitch!”


“I haven’t studied. Plus we can’t miss that rock concert. I wish I could get the Maths exam postponed.” Grumbled the sixteen-year old.

“That would happen only if someone died at school.” His friend chuckled.

Two days later, the mid-day news screamed of the gruesome murder of a primary student, in the washroom of a prestigious school.

The school was closed indefinitely.

As the sixteen- year old partied at a rock concert, his mother sank to the floor of his bedroom in anguish, after discovering his blood stained school sweater rolled into a bundle under his bed.

“I wish …. I had spoken up  much earlier.” She sobbed as her trembling fingers dialled 100.


Author’s note – Needless to explain, a horrific real life  incident that took place a few years back prompted me to write this.

The idea is not to ostracise or demonise an individual.It is to make us all realise that every wish is not,  and  need not be fulfilled,  for our own good.

We talk about giving a better earth to coming generations. Lets also talk about building better generations for our planet!

Rate this story/poem:

Click on a star to rate it!

Average rating 3.1 / 5. Vote count: 38

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

As you found this story/poem interesting...

Don't hesitate to share it on social media!

Connect with Penmancy:


Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!

Latest posts by Alpna Das Sharma (see all)

Let us know what you think about this story.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

© Penmancy 2018 All rights reserved.
%d bloggers like this: