Punctured Football

Punctured Football – He was working in his office when a colleague asked, hey Junaid let’s go for a smoke. To smoke they need to go outside the building. He willingly stood up and went with his colleague. Out of so many discussions and gossiping they also discussed their childhood days , the carefree life, the fun etc. Both enjoyed a lot and kind of freshen up because of that discussion. When Junaid reached home he was still enjoying that discussion about childhood. Suddenly he thought of his toy room which was closed for, don’t know how many years. He put the car keys on the table and went straight to that room. He opened the door, the “Toy Room” was looking more like a store room. There were different toys, board games and sports gear. He smiled as he was visualizing how he and his friends used to play. Every toy was like talking to him, telling him about the time he spent with them. He was engulfed in his thoughts then suddenly something has called out his name, he looks towards the voice and found nothing but a dirty and punctured football. The colors were almost gone and the football was looking like a bald head with dandruff patches. He picked the football in his hands as if he was hugging it and the football also felt like smiling. He sat down on the floor with the football in his lap. Like a time machine the football took him to the day when his father bought it for him. He was so happy to have that football, football world cup was going on those days and Argentina won the finals under the captaincy of the legendary Maradona, who was an iconic figure, some super hero sort for him and his friends. Due to school vacations, he and his friends used to play football like crazy be it morning or afternoon, they just start playing as and when they feel like. His memories were like moving around the football like a magical spell and he was sitting there mesmerized. He was caressing the football and his fingers were moving all around it. Suddenly he felt a hole in the football which was felt like an open dried wound or like a broad scar. He felt something wet on his cheeks, he realized those were his tears flowing down. The wide scar on the football seems like started eating his memories one by one. His friends, his loved ones and all those lovely moments were sucked in by that hole and he was left with nothing but that punctured football, hard, rough and colorless. He was pulled back from his memories and the crude present was right there in front of him enjoying his helplessness and scratching the softness of his childhood. What left behind were the ugly and harsh facts of life. He looked at himself in the mirror, he saw a bald aged man, looking like nothing but a Punctured Football.