this is not fair. you slog hard for the day and at the end, you get criticism and brick-bats. i am not saying criticism is bad, but that of a heavy kind indeed hurts.
see, i helped this kid fly the kite, had a good time, and also made him proud to proclaim himself the king of the sky, when by our joint effort we managed to pack the other kids back to home and watch in envy our dominance over the sky.
he actually hired me for the entire kite-flying season. the contract being, his will be the finance and mine will be the expertise. i also consented that he has my full loyalty for this indian premiorship season. he soon crowned me the kite-king! the best he has ever seen in his five years of life.
we also let the kite fly as much as the threads in the spool allowed. it became tiny...really tiny...until the point that we had to guess where it was at the sky.
the kid invited all his friends and under an impromptu quota system invented by him, gave the other kids an opportunity to hold the spool for two-three minutes and feel the thrill.
but then, i lit the cigarette. the ash fell on the thread. the kite itself was out of sight. now we saw the thread vanish in an instant!
that is when the kid kicked me. but that didn't hurt me. neither physically, nor mentally. my exiting girlfriends always said i have a thick skin! a kiddy kick won't penetrate that.
seeing no remorse on my face, my employer threw the spool on me.
see now...noticed that swelling at my forehead? that is where the spool landed with its full force.
remedy please...i cannot go to meet my new chick with this scarred face...