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People write diaries. Their diaries describe their personality. I write on my blog. It describes me way too well. :D
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Everyone writes. From the ink of their thoughts, by the pen of their mind on the page of their face. Everyone writes.I love to write. It is a passion; a compulsion; something that gives me an avenue to express myself. I write when I am happy; when I am sad or when an issue touches my heart. I find inspiration to write in every aspect of life.
This blog is dedicated to anything and everything that fills my thoughts and occupies cranial space

Monday, February 14, 2011

Comfortably Numb


Something strucked my mind...An image flashed and then its was persistent in my eyes. Its because of it, I am forced to Penn down, may be then I can overcome this strange feeling. I don't know why but I am feeling guilty. Guilty for letting something weird in front of my eyes.
I went to a street side vendor on one night. I was accompanied by my best of buddies here, we were damn hungry and so we stormed into this guy and ordered our food. While the guy took time to prepare it, we were discussing some issues. Suddenly, I thought of having something in the mean while, so I ordered tea. A small fellow instantly popped out from behind and confused he started to find some place to keep his "BOOK". I called him.

A tiny creature..small hands..innocence dripping in excess came forward but scared. The fear was evident in his tiny eyeballs, his mind was preparing him for a scold. I asked for his book, he unwillingly gave it to me. It was a primary edition of all in one book.
The drawing in the first pages were strangely done as if he closed his eyes and tried on his luck or may be he did them in haste. I turned the pages. My eyes glued onto the arithmetic section.
All additions were done but none was correct. I asked him, who taught him, but he was blank. For a while I thought he never understood Hindi but he replied..."master ji..school mai"(teacher in my school.) I tried explaining him the error but he looked at me strangely, and said ab nai jata(I have left school), I was struck and then the vendor shouted back. Trembled, the child put his book on the seat and ran to serve the customers waiting, where he got an inhuman spanking from the owner.
I looked and tried to reconcile myself as if nothing happened. A mere 8-9 year old urchin, who is fascinated to study but has to swallow abuses and have a tiny little book in his hand which is everything for him. Why do we let this happen? Answer is simple-People don't care and learned class has no time for it and above all people like me can only scribble pages but can do nothing.
I went back to that street side dhaba after 3-4 days, but was unable to find that little guy. After enquiring from the owner I came to know that he no longer works there. Got very angry that time, don’t know why.
I still wish I could teach him the right way to solve the sums. May be we all once desire.
We in everyday of our walk can experience such tiny hopes who needs support but we have become very tall and so we hardly care to look down. I am still guilty and my conscious will speak..Someday!!

Thanks

2 comments:

  1. Of all the lessons that need to be learnt from this post, the most important for me is that we should fight injustice when we see it at the very moment we see it, and at times, do what our heart desires (teaching the kid in this case).

    Great post. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ya I am also feeling Guilty, that I haven't made any effort at that time....
    May be I shall meet him or any other boy like him in the near future and will take action at that very moment.....

    ReplyDelete

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