What happens when you see a chubby little kid from your neighborhood? Don’t u run and touch the sweet palms and feel his little fingers on your thumb? Kids are always mesmerizing and beautiful, its when they grow up they cause the chaos. But why do we love these tiny little creatures so magnificently that it almost brings tears in our eyes when we watch them bleed? Few questions never had answers and few wont need answers, here is my question for you all.
It was the coldest winter morning in Pune. Shivering tissue tearing wind was like razor sharp edges scrubbing my skin n almost making me bleed. My tough skin was not to be spared today. I was wearing an inch thick jacket over my chubby skin and was still cursing the winter. “Thank heavens that it does not snow in Pune” I whispered slowly and generated a puff of vapor as I murmured. “Its not that cold uncle!” came a small cute voice from somewhere near my knees. I was shocked and I looked down to see a 6 year girl whose face still haunts me. “Why are these kids so cute?”, I asked myself. Before I could say something to the kid, she asked again, “uncle would you like a cup of tea with some biscuits?”. It was still too early for my so called punctual friends to arrive which spared a bit of time for the breakfast. Soon the tea arrived with a pack of glucose biscuits. Dipping every biscuit in the tea and relishing it all over my tongue was a bliss. Suddenly I sneezed, the kid was lighting his fireplace so that he could cook some morning snack. Every time he puffed in the fireplace, the fire became more visible and red. His eyes were covered with soot and started eventually coughing. I was moved, I went near the kid and asked him if he was ok. He gave me a “thumbs high” sign to relieve me from my grievances of the fireplace.
I went near the kid and magnetically we got attached. Maybe I saw my imprint somewhere in him. He said he studies in a night school and earns money for his family when he his not studying.
Why do few kids enjoy school so much that they want to go there even after a hard day at work? Who made these kids so willing to study? Whom should I blame for this kids sufferings? His parents? The society? Me? My ways of thinking? The government? Who? May be we all are to be blamed.
The kid was still puffing hard in the fireplace, and the fire was now a stable ball of flame. Perhaps so was that child’s heart, burning with the greatest flames. There was no healing hand above his head, no one was with him to wash the soot in his eyes. But why is he still smiling?
