Ramanath was a simple and one of the most eligible village lads. He had recently stepped into the 21st year of life. His fluency in the English language and his well-built physique made him famous among the village lasses.Ramanath was the son of the village weaver; his father had taken a loan from the village landlord for his education. He had expected his son to return after completing his education and pay of the landlords rent. Ramanath had come back to his village after 10 years, every one in the village from the old panchayat head to the careless little village boys had their own expectations from Ramanath .He had become every ones idol. The girls tried hard to woe his heart from time and again. He had gained a high position in every ones heart by getting gifts for all of them. None of them but actually knew what work did Ramanath do in the big city, not even his father! They all thought he worked as a babu in a big government office; at least that’s what he had told every soul in the village. But how much truth lay in that statement nobody really knew, for he surely lived a far more luxurious life than that of a government babu. His sudden arrival at his village on that cold winter night had made his father a bit suspicious. He tried asking Ramanath a couple of times but Ramanath always ignored it by saying it was some business stuff which his father would surely not understand it. (Few days later) It was raining outside. The lights of all the houses had faded out completely in the village. Ramanath was sitting in a corner in his room. The lamp kept on the side table was dying out slowly. His father Ramchaner slowly entered the room and sat beside his son. He stroked his son’s hair with his short and rough hands. It was the last straw that broke up Ramanath completely. After a few minutes of prolonged silence Ramanath told his father that he had fled away from the town and was now wanted by the police as he was involved in a major paper scandal in his office. Ramchaner had been an honest and a hard-working man all his life. He could not bear the thought of his only son letting him down by doing a crime as such. His son was a criminal. His hand turned cold. His body became hard and stone-like. Ramanath slowly touched his father with trembling fingers, and Ramchaner dropped dead on the cold, wet floor. The wind blew off the lamp on the side table. -Sakshi

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