The hot desert wind of Rajasthan blew softly, carrying dust with it. 

Amidst broken walls and scattered stones, a little boy sat on the ground, his small hands wiping his wet cheeks. His dark curly hair was messy, and his big, innocent eyes were filled with tears.  

"Maa…" he sobbed, his voice shaking. He hugged his knees close to his chest, his tiny body trembling as he cried.  

Just then, soft giggles echoed in the air. A little girl, shot in height, stood nearby, mischief twinkling in her bright eyes.

She had a small nose, sun-kissed cheeks, and her bare feet were covered in dust. She wore a simple, colorful frock, slightly torn at the edges, but her smile was wide and full of life.  

"Rutulu ladka!" she teased, laughing. 

(Crybaby boy!)  

The boy sniffed and quickly wiped his face, looking up at her with nervous eyes. He didn’t say anything, just stared at her, unsure.  

She grinned and held out a piece of aam papad, the sticky mango treat she had been licking. But instead of giving him the part she had eaten, she broke it and handed him the clean half.  

The boy hesitated. He turned his face away, pressing his lips together.  

But the girl was stubborn. She stepped closer, her tiny feet making soft sounds on the dusty ground. With her free hand, she grabbed his shirt and tugged it lightly. 

When he looked at her again, she gave him the brightest smile, her teeth showing, her eyes twinkling.  

"Le… kha le." 

(Take it… eat it.)  

The boy looked down at the aam papad. The smell of mango and spices filled his nose. 

"Thari maa sa ne mara tane." She asked, he shook his head. 

(Did your mother hit you?)    

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. He stood there, lost, unsure what to do.  

"Chal, tujhe kuch dikhati hoon." She said with excitement.

(Come, I’ll show you something.)  

She led him toward the dusty road where the village path stretched far into the distance. The wind blew gently, playing with their hair.  

"Ghar kaha hai thara?" she asked, licking her aam papad. 

(Where is your home?)  

The boy looked at the road, his dark eyes reflecting sadness.  

"Pata nahi." He said and licked his aam papad.

(I don’t know.)  

The girl stopped walking and turned to look at him.  

"Kho gaya?" she asked softly. 

(You’re lost?)  

He nodded, his small fingers tightening around the aam papad.  

She thought for a moment, then grabbed his hand. "Koi baat nahi, mil jayega tharo ghar." 

(No worries, we’ll find your home.)  

Just then, a loud voice echoed in the air.  

"Ae bavdi chhori!"

( Hey mad girl)  

The girl’s grip on the boy’s hand tightened. She looked behind her.  

The boy, too, turned his head, his lips still coated with the sour and sweet taste of aam papad. For the first time, he liked it.   

She ignored that voice and moved ahead.  The voice called again, louder this time.  

"Ae chhori! Sunai nahi de raho?"

 (Hey girl! Can’t you hear?)  

But before they could see who it was, a strong wind blew suddenly. The dry desert sand rose high into the air, covering everything in dust. The sky turned darker as a small dust storm came rushing through.  

The girl let out a small scream as the wind pushed them apart. The boy tried to hold her hand, but the storm was too strong. 

His small body stumbled back, his feet struggling to stay firm on the ground.  

"Ae!" the girl shouted, shielding her eyes from the dust.  

The boy tried to call out, but the wind swallowed his voice. The storm whirled around them, making everything blurry. 

For a moment, all he could see was sand and the faint shadow of the girl before she disappeared in the dust.  

And then, silence.  

The storm passed as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only the sound of the wind settling the dust back to the ground.  

The boy blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes. He looked around, his heart pounding.  

She was not there.  

His small hands clenched around the half-eaten aam papad. The taste of mango and spice was still fresh on his tongue. 

His lips trembled, and suddenly, the tears started again.  He was lost.  

And now, he was alone again.