This morning as I scrambled out of bed I wondered why things r so unfair. Couldn’t I have had a headache n stomach pain some other day? A whole day of work awaits. Unfair!!
I managed to drag myself through the morning routine and finally locked up the house and walked out. I didn’t have to walk much. Right outside the lane an auto driver saw me carrying a big box and ran up to me asking where I wanted to go. Relieved I told him where I had to go and haggled about the price. I walked to the auto and just as I was about to step in I noticed a little boy sitting in the back seat. At first I thought, n I might add a tad irritated, that it was just one of the neighbourhood boys playing the fool. But as the auto driver got into his seat I realized this boy was going to sit there.
I got in with the box dividing the seat into almost perfect halves.
It was only then that I realized that that the little boy had some sort of problem and the driver was possibly his father or a relative.
It is at times like this that the lack of understanding of the language really bugs me. I tried to attempt a conversation with the broken bits I do know. The driver suddenly asked if I was from Bombay. I replied in the affirmative. He started talking in Hindi like someone who found a comrade. He told me that the sweet little child was his son… mentally retarded since birth.
My eyes filled up. Such a sweet face. Gentle and kind, unassuming, loving and half contorted with what seemed like paralysis. He slowly slid his frail body closer to the box, leaned against it and gave me one of the sweetest smiles I have ever seen. I smiled back unable to think of anything else to do.
As we moved on his father talked about the time he was in Bombay. I couldn’t get my mind off the boy. I asked if they had tried to put him into a special school at any point of time. I looked on through the rear view mirror as his face dropped. He nodded and said that they had tried many schools to no avail. The boy was unable to walk, talk or do anything by himself. He needed continuous assistance and attention. The father further went on to tell me how he had taken his “jigar ka tukda” to the to ENT surgeon in town and was told that the boy would be absolutely ok (speech and hearing) if he underwent surgery. But others discouraged him saying the doctor was talking rubbish.
This funny unease swept over me. I felt like my heart was being tugged at as I listened to the auto driver talk and watched this child, so innocent and completely enamored by the sights and sounds around him.
I had to do something, and I did. Never in my life have I seen such a true show of gratitude. Tears flowed freely in place of the words that were caught in the throat.
I didn’t feel like a hero, I didn’t feel like a saint. I felt tiny and wondered what was truly unfair in the larger scheme of things?
And through it all, the index finger of the little boy’s left hand always touched his father as though to ratify the connection..
I managed to drag myself through the morning routine and finally locked up the house and walked out. I didn’t have to walk much. Right outside the lane an auto driver saw me carrying a big box and ran up to me asking where I wanted to go. Relieved I told him where I had to go and haggled about the price. I walked to the auto and just as I was about to step in I noticed a little boy sitting in the back seat. At first I thought, n I might add a tad irritated, that it was just one of the neighbourhood boys playing the fool. But as the auto driver got into his seat I realized this boy was going to sit there.
I got in with the box dividing the seat into almost perfect halves.
It was only then that I realized that that the little boy had some sort of problem and the driver was possibly his father or a relative.
It is at times like this that the lack of understanding of the language really bugs me. I tried to attempt a conversation with the broken bits I do know. The driver suddenly asked if I was from Bombay. I replied in the affirmative. He started talking in Hindi like someone who found a comrade. He told me that the sweet little child was his son… mentally retarded since birth.
My eyes filled up. Such a sweet face. Gentle and kind, unassuming, loving and half contorted with what seemed like paralysis. He slowly slid his frail body closer to the box, leaned against it and gave me one of the sweetest smiles I have ever seen. I smiled back unable to think of anything else to do.
As we moved on his father talked about the time he was in Bombay. I couldn’t get my mind off the boy. I asked if they had tried to put him into a special school at any point of time. I looked on through the rear view mirror as his face dropped. He nodded and said that they had tried many schools to no avail. The boy was unable to walk, talk or do anything by himself. He needed continuous assistance and attention. The father further went on to tell me how he had taken his “jigar ka tukda” to the to ENT surgeon in town and was told that the boy would be absolutely ok (speech and hearing) if he underwent surgery. But others discouraged him saying the doctor was talking rubbish.
This funny unease swept over me. I felt like my heart was being tugged at as I listened to the auto driver talk and watched this child, so innocent and completely enamored by the sights and sounds around him.
I had to do something, and I did. Never in my life have I seen such a true show of gratitude. Tears flowed freely in place of the words that were caught in the throat.
I didn’t feel like a hero, I didn’t feel like a saint. I felt tiny and wondered what was truly unfair in the larger scheme of things?
And through it all, the index finger of the little boy’s left hand always touched his father as though to ratify the connection..
3 comments:
Truly touching story ... @ times i feel god is very unfair ... Eveything happens for a reason. However, reasons like these are not acceptable .... Either science or god should eleminate these problems from the earth .... enjoy
i agree 100 percent
If all problems are eliminated from the face of the earth, we will have no appreciation for what we have.. Many thoughts come as I read your post and the comments.. But maybe will voice them some other time..
Hope you are doing well?
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