Showing posts with label Poverty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poverty. Show all posts

Thursday, April 02, 2009

It Happened One Night

It was around 10 P.M. They both went to that upclass sweet shop. She saw the boy standing near a couple. She thought they were a family and that it was their child. He was dressed in clean clothes. On a second look, she could see that pile of papers tucked under his arm. She even saw him persuading them to buy one of those papers.

They went in, she bought her apple pie, had a fight with the counter guy for heating it up too much. He tasted his favorite sweet, laughed about with the counter boys if only to make up for her bad humored verbal exchange. She wanted ice cream, he said, "I will share it with you. " He should have said, “Don’t eat so many sweets. You are already fat, sweets will undo your workout.” Instead he indulged her. They came out to the car. She placed her pie, their ice cream on the car boot and started to look for the car key that he often tells her to put in her bag.

The boy came near them, they tried to ignore. He said, “Ma’am, Please buy this map from me.” “But I don't need one, Beta,” she said, but told him to show her the maps. “I will take the city map. No, the state map is better. Umm, or maybe, India map is more useful. Uhoon, Let me take this world map.” He told the little boy, “Ow just give me the city map. How much is it for?” “Sir, it is for 25 Rupees,” He began to look at the map. She saw the boy looking at the feast kept on the car bonnet. She looked at the boy, he smiled. She asked him, “Do you study?” He said, “Yes, I am in class 6th.” She thought, “Almost as old as my older one.” Then asked him “Would you like to have an ice cream?” The boy hesitated, then said, “yes”. She blinked her eyes, gave him the little bowl, he paid the boy for the map and told him to keep the change. The boy grinned and thanked her. She decided it was the most beautiful smile she had seen lately . She would never forget the grin. Once the boy went, she thought aloud, “Glad I gave the ice cream away. Saved me from sinning.” Once inside the car, she told him, “We are a crazy couple, aren’t we? !!!” He said, “Why do you think so?” She said, “Aiwen ee.” He said, “You are !! and that’s why I love you.”

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Blog Action Day-To Pick or not to Pick

It is Blog Action Day today, and the topic is Poverty.



Jasdeep introduced me to the site and IHM inspired me to do a post on the issue. She has done an excellent post. You can read it here. I am travelling in about an hour and would have loved to do a post on the matter. However, IHM is kind enough to suggest that I re-do a post on the child I saw on the road.


The child was barely 11 months old. She sat in the middle of the road to my place. She was clad in a thin frock, she had dirty patches on her skin and her nose was running. Her eyes had big blotches of kohl. A small Ziploc bag having 5 or 6 mangoes was lying close to her. There were a couple of pieces of Indian bread (roti) wrapped in a piece of cloth lying next to her.

I was coming by car, I saw her from afar. I thought someone with her would pick her up just in time. I stopped the car very close to her; there was that fearless look in her eyes that you associate with innocent ignorance. There was enough space for me to drive by her , but I was afraid I might hurt her in case she suddenly lunged towards the car. I came out of the car looking for the mother, or a possible guardian, which I presumed was a beggar. Finding none, I picked up the child as lovingly as I possibly could. There was a little room on the side of the road. I make her stand there and sat near her, asking where her mama was. She was dazed, she didn’t even cry when I picked her up. I touched her cheek, I m amazed it didn’t take much effort to touch her dirty cheek though I am always finicky about my kids being always clean. Then I picked her mango-packet and placed it next to her. As I went to pick the pieces of bread, I saw a scooter coming from the other side. The young boy might just have crushed the bread and rode off. I almost bullied him into stopping and picked the bread, wrapped it in the piece of cloth and placed it next to the child. My car in the middle of that small approach road - I sat with the girl, painfully aware that in case she was an abandoned child, I would not be able to leave her like that and go home. In that split second, I tried to weigh all the options I had, in case I had to do something about an abandoned child. Once again, I tried to look for someone who had left her there.

I wondered, hungry myself, who could have the heart to leave her like that? Meantime a waif of a woman, carrying another infant, a girl less than 2 months, on her side, came there. I was so angry that I wanted to slap her. I think I was louder than I normally am, “ Kaun hai tu? Yeh teri bacchi hai? (Who are you? Is this child yours?)” She had an expression of a dog just kicked. Sheepishly she pointed towards a gate, “ Haan, woh main wahan se kapde lene gayee thi. (yes, well, I had gone to get clothes from there)” There meant two girls standing near a bike. I guess those girls had promised her some garments some other day and today was the day of the fulfillment of that promise. I was least interested in her donors. “Tumne bacchi ko beech sadak mein bithaya houa tha, koi kuchal deta toh? (You had made the child sit in the middle of the road, what if someone had crushed her?) She again mumbled an ashamed answer. My anger was mounting up, I don’t know why. I almost shouted at her, “If you couldn’t take care of her, why did you give birth to her?” Immediately I regretted having said that. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t be a beggar. If she had a choice, she would probably not have given birth to a girl child. After all, then she would have had the choice of Pre-Natal Sex-determination.

Seeing me shouting at that woman, a man came towards me. He tried to add fuel to the fire. “A couple of minutes ago, when I came with my car, she had made the younger one sit in the middle of the road.” I was so full of my own wrath that I hardly paid any attention to him, which I know he didn’t like.

I wanted to yell at her, “If the wheels on the road leave her alive, the predators roaming about won't. She would be raped, maimed, abused and left to bleed and die. Why did you leave her alone on the road?” But I didn’t say that. I just said, “Dhyan rakha karo is ka” (Please take care of her). My voice was sounding more like a request than an angry shout I had meant it to be.

http://manmahesh.blogspot.com/2008/07/child-on-road.html