A mere kid, who looked barely four or five years old, was standing at the end of a zebra crossing with me. We waited for the vehicles to make us way but when they did, I didn’t realize.”But my best friend texted about her new shoes!” It isn’t my excuse unlike teenagers on their phone who dash into a hundred things and trip over a million. I was surely distracted; it was this kid. He was standing there more confidently than I do before a road with vehicles running over as though race would cost them their lives. And he carried weight on his back; more weight than I did on my first day of school in Grade five (Did I mention, I carried all notebooks and textbooks on my first day because I wouldn’t know the routine?). And Oh! did I tell you, the kid wasn’t alone. You must have imagined a cruel guardian or someone forcing the child to labor. Because I did too; I looked around for someone who’d cross the road with the kid, if not for his safety, for the load on his back, maybe? To my disappointment, there was nobody around. But didn’t I say he wasn’t alone? The load the five year old carried on his back was his three year old sister, almost as tall and heavy as him, grinning innocently because while the world walked on foot, she got a ride and unafraid because her brother would make sure the negatives don’t reach her. While the two boldly walked on the crossing, the little girl almost lost hold of her brother’s sweater, I panicked and extended my hand for help but withdrew soon after I realized, the brother knows his job pretty well. I didn’t disturb them on the crossing after that but as soon as I reached the other end of the road, I couldn’t help but bombard the kid with questions. “Aama Buwa kata hununchha baabu? Ghar chai kata ho?” I asked him about their parents. “Aama Buwa bhaneko ko ho didi? Malai thaha bhayena. Ooooh tyo pasal ma sodhnu.” He told me he didn’t know what parents meant and I should ask a nearby shopkeeper if I need help. Haha. “Ani ghar chai mero dherai chha.” The kid eagerly told me he had many homes. I was relieved and very keen. I enquired about their stay that evening. He told me they’d sleep under another car for the night but that he’d soon make his sister a house with a garden. He left soon after. I watched him walk to a roadside stall. The stall was colourful, something that always made me happy: balloons. He blew balloons while his sister sat in a cardboard house he made for her.