One world under a Blanket

Getting up from bed that morning was a tedious task and everyone avoids it. The clock was ticking loud and even after snoozing, it was moving its arms at pace faster than the blink of an eye. It moved round and round and she decided to get up and brush her up for the money earning activities. She covered herself well to get protected from the arrow shots of winter. Waiting for the bus and stretching the sweater sleeves to make it more cover the naked.

Radio said it was the most chilling day in the North and the temp was down to 3. She huddled to the girl sitting next to her and gave her a warm smile in return of the heat she got. Smile was the only warm thing at that time. Rubbing her hands again and again and transferring the warmth to the ears and eyelids. The smoky roads and hibernating people  gave the same expression of losing themselves to the play of climate. The light was dim and red and so the bus stopped at the view where life was playing with the less experienced and so called Divine Holders.

Three in number and just wearing their skin, loud cries and dull figures were visible. She looked out and her vision was smashed by the scene. From head to toe she could experience the winter arrow pinching her. The naked God’s were trying to make a fire there and were collecting the papers from the filth to cover their body. Fog covered the eyes of the people passing by, nothing was noticed, nothing was felt. Well they might also be living in the hell of their own creation. And here the God himself was not even wearing Gold. She cried and wanted to hug them. Let the God feel the love Humans carry for him. She remained silent and unmoved, didn’t donate anything as it was not meant to be. She got the message how fortunate she was to wear something at a place where even God move naked. Since then she has been bringing the world of naked under the blanket of Warm Love. Inside, we all are naked not to see the God crying and dying of winter, not to even let the fire be made to save him. Spread the blanket to move all under it. The message was a silent game of winter shots.