As that sad pair of eyes kept looking at me through the window of my car, I felt a sudden pang of helplessness which refused to go away until much later. She was barely 6 years old - deprived of education, deprived of love and care, deprived of that easy going childhood we take for granted. Resigned to this fate of beggary, she is forced to spend her days waiting for vehicles to stop at traffic lights.
Some of us offer a little money, most make a face and wait for the lights to turn green. We are instructed to ignore the little 'mites', for they are more often than not feigning poverty. They are supposedly involved in chains and scams... Leaving all that heavy duty stuff aside, she remains a little girl whose childhood is nonexistent. Why is there so much disparity in our country? How on earth can anyone complain about not getting a better flavour for their ice-cream when someone doesn’t even get one proper meal a day? I am not passing judgment on anyone; I do the same. All of us, at some point of time, consider our private sorrows to be among the deepest in the world. We complain about the colours of our clothes, about the taste of our food, about the blandness of the weather. We never realize that there are people for whom concepts of colour and taste are non existent.
If we can't make a difference to the state of things, we should at least try and cut down on complaints. Count your blessings for life is too short and too unpredictable.
Some of us offer a little money, most make a face and wait for the lights to turn green. We are instructed to ignore the little 'mites', for they are more often than not feigning poverty. They are supposedly involved in chains and scams... Leaving all that heavy duty stuff aside, she remains a little girl whose childhood is nonexistent. Why is there so much disparity in our country? How on earth can anyone complain about not getting a better flavour for their ice-cream when someone doesn’t even get one proper meal a day? I am not passing judgment on anyone; I do the same. All of us, at some point of time, consider our private sorrows to be among the deepest in the world. We complain about the colours of our clothes, about the taste of our food, about the blandness of the weather. We never realize that there are people for whom concepts of colour and taste are non existent.
If we can't make a difference to the state of things, we should at least try and cut down on complaints. Count your blessings for life is too short and too unpredictable.
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