My servent maid knocked my door little late than ever. I opened the door gleefully welcoming her, thanking my stars. Her flash appearence drove away my fears of anticipatory drudgery from my psyche. " Why are you late?" " Amma don't you know? police have come to question 305 people (people are identified here with numbers. What an idea sirji !!)" "What for?" "For engaging a little boy for house work" . I know that boy. I always spotted that boy of 12, very active and loud , playing with their kids in the evenings, helping them with manja to fly their kites, sometimes flying them, or pushing their cycles , at times riding them, many times I confronted with a doubt about his identity as he was often dressed with good pair of jeans. But later I probed with subtle questions to clear my doubt. Certain, he came to work there. . "Amma can you move a little?" I was reminded of my temporal existence with her request. "Police have really done a yeomen's job. Isn't it?." She nodded her head in a way which could be diciphered as yes or no.
After a month I found the same boy on a street loitering, kicking an empty plastic tin frenziedly while I was proceeding to the park to take my evening stroll. "Hey! What are you doing here?" He recognised me. "No. I am just wailing my time". "Didn't you go to school?" "No ..I did not like it " . "By going to school you can become an engineer" I said. " What is an Engineer?". It is a very difficult question. There lies a building under construction to my rescue. "You can build a house like that" He did not seem to be too enthusiastic about it. "My father too works there.I don't want to be an engineer. They have to carry bricks"". Even before I decided to explain him the conceptual mistake he is making , he hesitantly began to ask" Madam can you give me 2 rupees" I really did not know what to do. I opened my vallet and taken 2 rupee coin to give him. "Hope you are not asking every body like this?" "Nay" He slipped from there. I had my walk and talk in the park with so many others who are so job less as I am.
I was retuning home sneaking into in the shadows of the trees planted alongways . Some familiar tone struck my ear " Sir can you give me One rupee ?. I am hungry". I found the same boy from a distance. The man hurriedly escaped him. The boy spotted me, and about to flee. I caught hold of the boy. " You said you were not begging" "Now only I begged" I know it is not true. I paused and shot him question " Will you come back to their house?" "No. Sir will not take me. He is angry for complaining to the police" Who did it?" "May be.. it is my uncle. He is jealous of us" "Any way why do you want money?" Long silence followed by an honest answer " I want to buy a pizza" "Whhaaat?" "Yeah..We used eat every weekend when i was in 305." I have taken a deep breath and asked " Why only pizza ?" There is some kind of blush in his face. "I like it" That is all. I cannot question why he likes it. I like pastries, I like chacholates, he likes pizzas. He has every right to like some thing.I can not force him to like inexpensive things. I murmured "But it is very expensive" I could find some sparkle in his eye. " It costs Rs. 40. I have Rs.25 with me"
I opened my vallet to find whether I have ruppees 15 . "Take it. But do not beg from here on". He was exhilarated with my generosity. "Yes, madam I will not do" He grabbed the currency and ran away. I stood there fixing my gaze into his melting shadow. Something in side me telling that he will continue to beg tomarrow to buy his burger or to have his puff of a cigerette or possibly for a meal . The little worker who walks tall with his head high had been reduced to a begger. The pride of restoring his childhood from the cluches of drudgery is proving to be worth less with no childhood sighted in surroundings. The truth is too bitter to swallow. He was displaced from his comfort zone without providing adequate support system. His world of play, exitement, taste of luxury, doze in a warm cousy house , every day bath with plenty of water, though followed by arduous labour, were stripped from him. His every day meal was denied to him, with parents hardly capable of feeding their own bellies. We are trying to apply a calamine without administering a medicine to his wounds. There is great feeling of distaste in my mouth. I hated to cry. What worth is my tear to him ?
2 comments:
If a child is better off working than loitering around and resorting to something which is not worth his age, I see no reason why any one on earth have a problem with him working.If they can take up the responsibility of getting him educated, then it is justified in asking to quit working.
A boy need not work. He has to study , play and blossom as a full fledged individual. Child works because he is poor, his parents are not able to sustain him, or view him as an additional hand to add to the family income.Any attempt by the government to abolish childlabour without rehabilitation, proper planning and purpose is futile and more over can deprive him of his daily bread also. Aleviation of poverty , improving the living conditions of the less previleged should be the focus for the authorities.And also pushing everybody in to the white collared educational slot of churning out steriotyped engineers or doctors is not required. If any body wants to make a decent living with his skills he can be encouraged to do so by imparting vocational education and training. There is dearth of skilled workers for us.Boy's doze in a cosy house and a regular bath are transient comforts of a system in which he is living but they they are not substitutes for his owning them.This problem which needs a indepth examination in correspondence with so many related social problems.We as a country do not make any affort to solve any social problem, expect them to get solved by them selves.It is a vicious cycle.Some where it has to be axed.Government thinks it is from shoots, I say it is from roots.
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