He did see big brother another time though. Ravi was dressed up in his favorite attire and his mom took him to the hospital, which could have been the same place where big brother stole the stethoscope. Wrapped in white sheets, tubes and bandages, big brother was in no condition to even talk with him that day. We�ll play superman once he recovers, Ravi thought.
A few days later Ravi was sitting in the bed covered meagerly with a non-superman sheet, watching the clouds grow darker with melancholy, with no sunlight pushing through the metal lattice and no dust suspended, when somebody rushed into the house to say that big brother was dead. There was nobody to help Ravi fly now, and the green sheet with the hole lay in the corner, which appeared rather powerless now. Nobody is superman and nobody flies with a torn sheet. Anybody can get cancer and die just like that one day. It became darker and darker and the sky rumbled. The aroma of the soil during the drizzle was the only thing that seemed real.