It was just another day. Except that the colour of the sky, the feel and temperature of the fresh crisp air seemed to officially announce the advent of winter. There wasn’t much particulate matter scraping my eyeballs as I drove down at a respectable pace. The wind in my hair felt flattering and that in my face, refreshing, as if gently waking me up. This sort of weather teases your senses for about two weeks, just about twice each year, first mid-October, then late February.
To while away the time before papa arrived at his office, I stepped out to catch some more of this invigorating air while mon ami chose to sleep precariously with his head resting against the back of another chair with wheels in its base. You need to be as zonked and as devoid of sleep as him to sleep like that. You also need to be him.
After a look here and a look there, nothing catching my eye, I chose to scrape the three huge spots of pigeon droppings off my Honda Dio. I must tell you here that they were really difficult to get rid off, the thick layer parched for some days under the formerly relentless sun. “Namaste”, said a very small girl in a very big voice. I looked around to find a matching source but had to conclude that I was staring right into it. “Namaste”, I said too as I went back to my task, not knowing what to say.
“Palhe jaanti ho?” I said, “kya?” I didn’t expect this so thought I should confirm. “Palhe jaanti ho?” Came the lisping voice again. A smile stretched across my face and jumped into her eyes as I said a yes. I asked her how old she was, to which she said, “teen”.
I asked her if there was anybody at home who could take her to school which was a little distance from her hut but she said no. But as an afterthought she said she will ask her father. I asked her, “Papa kaha hain?” Surprising me yet again, she said, “dooty gaye hain.” “Papa aa gaye…” and she trotted off to some imaginary business.
In a little while she was back, this time with another little girl, bigger than her and she sat down on the office steps. This time I began….”Ye tumhaari behen hai?” I got a tremendously curt NO. Surprised, I ventured again….”Dost hai?” “NAHIN!” I said, “phir?”
“Ye chamarin hai”
A shocked “what?” was all I could muster before trying to explain to her in vain why there was no difference between her and her friend.
Come to think of it, both lived in the same slum. Both their parents were probably daily wage labourors. Both families were illiterate. Both lived in unhygienic conditions. I saw no difference, still I couldn’t explain it to her.
Who gives these little kids such horrendous concepts? I wonder how they manifest it. The enigma in the air seemed to vanish in a flash of a second.
7 comments:
accha hai!!!:)
Hi Vaidehi!
Loved your blogs. You write with some style :)
I really wonder who makes our identities?? Is it us or someone telling us who we are?
We lose ourselves, our true identities to a thousand differrent irrelevant identities, like our nationality, religion, our family backgroud, etc etc etc...huh...Who are we, afterall, amidst all of this?
Very well narrated experience.
Yes! the enigma did not vanish vaidi...the enigma just set. These small kids know it all..rather know nothing at all..they have their identities which they like. The love to be the skin they are. They love the way life is for them. There are many few who have wider aspirations to reach out for.
It is an enigma in their eyes..U just do not know what they want. They are like this now and they will grow up n die like this only.
We cannot change..we can just mute observers...keep the enigma alive! This time in ourselves!
Thank you so much, guys, to read my stuff. The fact that you made time to comment touched me immensely.
Manu, that's crisp. :P
Surabhi, Coming from you, i am flattered.
Nabila, that's beautifully expressed. If I may say, it is the amalgamation of the environment which makes our identity, and weighing the scenario...looks like things are really bad.
Kaveesh, when that three year old asked me about education i can't explain how elated i felt. I could see the intelligence in her eyes, the confidence in her movements and so i totally agree with you. But, the enigma which i was referring to was that of the biannual weather that i described. You mirror my unexpressed angst at this when you say they will never change, but, this just simply HAS to change if this country has to develop. The parents of these kids and the kids themselves when they grow up are the ones who pull us light years back. And it is people like you who are in close proximity to them are the ones who can really make a difference and you must. It is about pushing your limits and testing your patience.
gr8
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