“Where is the time for all this ! I am too busy.” I recall the innumerable times I have said these lines maybe to avoid something or because I always found something else more important to do. Now when I try to remember what exactly was important, all I am able to figure out are that they were just lame excuses. Not lame excuses to do the big things but to see the smaller pieces of life. Now you must be wondering what I am talking about……. Well it is question I am sure we all should ask ourselves at some point in our lives……at some point in our small lives. The smaller pieces life that we forget in our bigger issues.
Every morning I have made it a habit to read the newspapers…….indeed a good habit, but do I really read the news? My answer would be no……a big no. I, sitting in the luxury of my drawing room my legs fully stretched on the cushy sofa legs cannot understand the misery of a child forced to work in a firecracker workshop inhaling millions of poisonous gases, so that he can get a morsel of food. I am definitely not capable of understanding what a young girl goes through when her parents just to feed their remaining children sell her off. I thought I knew what pain was until I saw children at the construction site pick up bricks twice their weight. This is probably one of the many things I can never understand rather dread to understand. Sometimes I wish I could remain ignorant forever like I have lived all these years.
The election season is on and politicians are ready with their flashy manifestos. The newspaper is filled with news articles about what promises are made, conducting pre poll surveys and their hopes for the future. Ah…… it all seems like a mockery to me……………is our India really shining ????? when the children of this nation have no childhood left in them.
This time while coming back home with my friend in the train, I saw a small girl not more than 6 years old with her face all painted in different colours. On entering the compartment she immediately started doing Hoola-hoop around her neck and then around her waist. Her mother carrying a toddler was singing a song to whose tunes the young girl was dancing. She had a big smile painted on her face and on finishing her act when she came to me to ask for money, I saw her eyes. Her eyes bare of any emotions yet deep down I felt connected to her sorrows, and I couldn’t look at her any longer. For a 6 year old to dance like her I can imagine how much her mother must have beaten her. And then is when my friend said that the toddler’s face is also painted……..rather her fate is painted. I wondered how a mother could do such a thing to her daughters. I couldn’t do anything but stare at the empty fields where the wheat was brightly shining under the blazing sun. Indeed India was shining…………………
In my college campus, I used to often find small kids running and playing in the muddy waters. They used to play with the same mud and spade that their parents used for construction. One look at those kids and you just can’t escape their innocence. They used to always bring smile on my face.
Often waiting for the signal to go green at the traffic signal we come across many of those small children selling magazines…..none which they can read, balloons and toys…..none which they can play with.
The euphoria of Indians winning the Oscars still doesn’t seem to die down……..but probably the story of the slum children in Slumdog Millionaire is dying its slow death. Do we actually need a foreigner to come to India to tell us the story of the children of the nation that we claim to be so proud of? Obviously not! I strongly believe that the film did well not because it talked about the agonies of young slum children but because it talked about hope.
The election season is on and politicians are ready with their flashy manifestos. The newspaper is filled with news articles about what promises are made, conducting pre poll surveys and their hopes for the future. Ah…… it all seems like a mockery to me……………is our India really shining ????? when the children of this nation have no childhood left in them.
This time while coming back home with my friend in the train, I saw a small girl not more than 6 years old with her face all painted in different colours. On entering the compartment she immediately started doing Hoola-hoop around her neck and then around her waist. Her mother carrying a toddler was singing a song to whose tunes the young girl was dancing. She had a big smile painted on her face and on finishing her act when she came to me to ask for money, I saw her eyes. Her eyes bare of any emotions yet deep down I felt connected to her sorrows, and I couldn’t look at her any longer. For a 6 year old to dance like her I can imagine how much her mother must have beaten her. And then is when my friend said that the toddler’s face is also painted……..rather her fate is painted. I wondered how a mother could do such a thing to her daughters. I couldn’t do anything but stare at the empty fields where the wheat was brightly shining under the blazing sun. Indeed India was shining…………………
In my college campus, I used to often find small kids running and playing in the muddy waters. They used to play with the same mud and spade that their parents used for construction. One look at those kids and you just can’t escape their innocence. They used to always bring smile on my face.
Often waiting for the signal to go green at the traffic signal we come across many of those small children selling magazines…..none which they can read, balloons and toys…..none which they can play with.
The euphoria of Indians winning the Oscars still doesn’t seem to die down……..but probably the story of the slum children in Slumdog Millionaire is dying its slow death. Do we actually need a foreigner to come to India to tell us the story of the children of the nation that we claim to be so proud of? Obviously not! I strongly believe that the film did well not because it talked about the agonies of young slum children but because it talked about hope.
My father has worked for NGOs and he often used to state the enthusiasm poor young children showed. How the moment you ask them to dance and they quickly emulate the moves of the latest bollywood numbers, how they show their masterpiece paintings and are so very much willing to gift it to you if you like them. In them I see a true happiness……a happiness of being contented with life, not because life is perfect but because they have a hope that it can be made perfect.
Education makes a huge difference in the lives of any child. If we could sponsor the education of one child in our lifetime, it would be the biggest gift one could give to them. In this manner, we can keep their hopes alive ……a way to focus on the bigger issues in our smaller lives.
Education makes a huge difference in the lives of any child. If we could sponsor the education of one child in our lifetime, it would be the biggest gift one could give to them. In this manner, we can keep their hopes alive ……a way to focus on the bigger issues in our smaller lives.
P.S. - Say NO to Crackers !
