Sunday, September 8, 2013

Statutory warning; or lack thereof.

There were kids playing on a high ground; much higher than the field beneath, higher than the level of the small restaurant I was sitting with my friends. There was a high stone wall rising from the field, towards the ground, a good 150-200 feet high. The restaurant was in a town alien to me, the menu strange and I was loving every moment of it. There were a few kids in the restaurant too, possibly from the same school.

The kids up there were playing with Table Tennis paddles, albeit with no table. And the paddle slipped from one of the kid's hand and flew down the wall, into the field down below. Another kid promptly started climbing down the wall, holding on to the line of jutting stones, which I think was made specifically for that. He looked deft enough in the beginning, but I was proven wrong soon enough. He slipped and fell down into the field, a good 100-150 feet and it was obvious that he's dead.

Kids started swarming around him, in the field. It was far enough from me to know the details. I saw one elder man thrashing a kid, though I don't know why.

And all I could think was of the guilt the kid whose hands had slipped, causing the paddle to fell off; he would live the rest of his life as one who caused another's death.