The Rag Doll- Part 1

Of all the types of love on Earth, I believe that a mother’s love is the purest and the most enduring. Mothers throughout the world sacrifice many things for their children. Even though we may not accept it often, we secretly look up to our mothers as a hero. Personally, my mother is a pillar of strength to me. Her unconditional love has seen me through many a tough time.
Yet, there was a possibility that I may have lost that love at a tender age. My mother is a survivor of the 1996 Central bank bombing which killed at least 91 and injured 1400 others (; one of the deadliest bombings that took place during the civil war in Sri Lanka.  I was lucky; countless people lost their source of unconditional love due to the war, sometimes right before their eyes. It doesn’t matter which race you belong to; the grief of losing a loved one hurts in a similar way. My aim in writing this story, which is loosely based on my mother’s experience, is not to bring back hurtful memories. I am writing with the hopes that another war will not ravage our paradise isle; that our future generation will not have to fear for the loss of their beloveds.
“Love you Ammi!” the little girl yelled from the arms of her grandmother.
“Love you my world!” her mother replied tenderly, wanting to give one more cuddle to her baby daughter, yet having to rush since the train to work could arrive at any minute. 

She couldn’t take two more steps when she felt a tiny tug on her skirt.

“Ammi, stay!”, the girl whispered, her face clouding up with tears.
“I’ll be home soon darling. Ammi will bring you a new doll today- a rag doll just like the one in the cartoon” she said with a hurried kiss.
On her way to work, she couldn’t help thinking about her daughter’s unusual reaction. “What’s up with my little girl today? She’s always happy to be with her grandma while I work…” she mused. The friendly chatter of her train buddies woke her up from her musings and she quickly forgot her worries.
A few hours later, she was happily settled in her 5thfloor cubicle. While reading through a document she glanced at the rag doll lying on her desk, wrapped with glittering paper. She could almost imagine the smile that would spread across the face of her little girl like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. “Thank you so much Ammi”, she would squeal with delight… 
Suddenly, the sound of gun shots pierced the air. At the entrance to the Central bank, the building opposite to the one she was inside, a group of men were engaged in a gun fight with the security guards who didn’t allow their lorry to enter the premises. They even aimed at the passers-by. The men rammed the lorry into the barricade and after few tries, got in.

4 thoughts on “The Rag Doll- Part 1”

  1. I absolutely love this. It's simple and it comes from your heart. The rag doll, it adds that childlike innocence to a story that could have been told with more anger and hate. And others would have rather told this story without such simplicity and innocence, but I think, your version is so much better. Waiting for more 🙂

  2. Thank you very much Shailee! :)Yep, I felt that I could write this story with love rather than hate…Actually, the simplicity is due to my inexperience with stories; but I am glad you saw that in a positive way…:D

  3. Sometimes people try to stay away from simple language, just to seem like they have been writing for years! Or that they know so many 'big words.' This only makes the story seem like a robot wrote it

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