by pushkar prabhat
It was not a usual day for me, but it was certainly a routine for them. I had traveled the same route before, but not like them. This was everyday for them, probably everyday of their lives. Life, I don’t know the reasons, the big plans, or fairness or the karma, but life is strange for sure, that much I know. And I would like to believe that I am right.
There is something about train travel. Every journey is unique. You rarely ever meet the same people and if you do, you could form an everlasting bond. This was not such a case. I am sure I would never meet them again and even if I do, neither of us will recognize the other. Given my age, I might not change that much, but children grow quickly, and five year olds don’t remember much from their childhood. I don’t remember much. It’s a blessing, really.
They wouldn’t miss anything anyways. They don’t have anything worth remembering. I hope they do not have any memory of this, routine. Climbing on trains, risking their lives, and performing tricks for ignorant audience. But even those in the audience could not be blamed for anything. They haven’t personally caused them their misery or have forced them to do this. They don’t owe them anything, just because they decided to intrude on their journey. And I am sure no one would want them to suffer. No one, if possible, would willingly enforce this live on anyone. People are not cruel, at least not all of them. They are right in refusing to part with their hard earned money. They haven’t got vaults full of riches. Rich people don’t travel in trains, even if they do, they travel in first class and people like these innocent children are not allowed there. Even they are not to be blamed, they can’t see the plight of these poor souls. I am sure, if they did, they would definitely do something about it. Meanwhile, we who see and suffer, what can we do? They don’t need our sympathy. We can help one of them, but what about others? There will always be someone more miserable, who are we to decide which one gets help?
I could see in their eyes, dreams, but more than that I could see their empty expectations and broken hopes. They have us figured out. And at this stage of my life, where I often find myself struggling to find, even a tiny grain of hope, grabbing onto every shred of it I have got, I could clearly see the hopelessness in their eyes. And I did not feel okay with it. I would never be okay with it. I don’t want people to spoil their minds by showering money on them. They must learn than life is difficult and you have to work very hard to earn everything you own. They must learn to survive and grow. They must know life isn’t fair. But they must, at least, have some hope that someday, they would board a train, perform their trick, and someone among the innocent travelers would donate very generously. They must have that hope. Children must have hope. Otherwise, what kind adults would we raise them to be? What kind of adults would we be?
i know, it’s not Sunday. But i was traveling so i missed the schedule. And i don’t want this to be a break. So here it was. I hope you enjoyed.
i am here!
i will be back!