A night in a no-man's land
Image Credit: Selvamani The stillness in the air could be felt, and the wailing silence could be heard from afar as the moon crawled over the sands to touch the feet of Aman and Mahi. The shrilling cry of brittle crackling could be heard aloud as the slivery platter makes its way between them. The moist eyelashes of Mahi and the deep oceanic globe of Aman long to narrate their agony. Aman was an artisan who made baskets of palm leaves and made his living. He had two younger sisters and a mother to take care of. Life was tough but happiness was full because they all lived every moment. Every day Aman would make baskets, sell them in the local market, and make money. Years back, there was a severe famine in the land and no food. So, his father travelled to the king's palace to borrow food for his family. There, he mortgaged his house for food. On the way back home, the sun was scorching and for miles and miles, no water was visible. The caravan was full of children and nursing moth