Regret

As he climbed through the window & into the room,

As his mate cast some light, into the gloom,

Amidst the normal nasty thought,

Came a random one, maybe the purest of the lot.

His life flashed before him, long it had been,

Since his mother had been pulled into the scene,

He suddenly saw her, sweeping the floor,

& though he forced his mind not to wander, he wanted to see more.

He tiptoed quietly behind his mate as they’d planned,

A fibre-glass cosh ready in his gloved hand,

But as they rounded the foyer wall and into the kitchen,

He felt a pang in his stomach as he saw what was within.

Holi it was, and some puranpolis he could see,

His mother garnishing the stuff with glee,

His younger self and Reshma, ran in presently,

laughing, playing, a merry jamboree..

"What are you doing man?" said his mate from ahead,

And Sanjay stopped and shook his head,

He had better concentrate on the work at hand,

or their plans would have to be canned.

The two went up the stairs without further ado,

Manoj stayed downstairs keeping his eyes open for them too,

They were just outside the bedroom, just as was to be,

When he saw again, in a flash, what he was not supposed to see.

He saw his father! so much time it had been,

Since his father's face with expression he had seen,

His heart was in his mouth now, his eyes contracted with fear,

His eyes turned red, and out came the tears.

The tears streamed down his face as he and his mate slipped in,

They streamed down his face as he typed the safe pin,

They didn't stop as they stuffed the loot into the sack,

They kept coming as all the gold they did pack.

His mate started moving out, not a sound he made,

Sanjay followed suit, but his mind was in a haze,

why? Why did he trust his mate implicitly?

And not his family, who'd brought him up so lovingly?

They slipped back down the staircase, loot in tow,

As the thoughts kept flooding in all in a row.

What lame reason had he to mistrust his own family?

& trust these ruffians with his life so freely?

He stopped dead in his tracks as on the rug in the hall,

He saw his mother crying, Reshma was mid-brawl,

His father was lying motionless in a corner in the room,

He almost made a break for him, through all the gloom..

Suddenly out of nowhere his own voice he could hear,

Yelling hoarse at the people around so loud and clear,

a blood stained knife in his own hand he could see,

Wait a minute, could it possibly be...

He yelled, screamed, not knowing anymore what to think!

His mates, scandalised, didn't even blink,

before turning away, running, grabbing the loot from his back,

They didn't look back; they just didn't look back.

Confused, and lost, he felt arms grab him, 

Numbly he went, without a word,

It might merely be a whim,

but he definitely could hear his father calling him.