The Hopeful

The signs of success are a smile that does not fade, confidence that does not wither, and a personality that does not get shaken. Sri Sri Ravishankar

The bubbly group of children were laughing and  striding ahead. Few  of the kids carried a large clean aluminium bowl which was flat on the lower portion as it rested on their head. There was something wrapped in a red piece of cloth kept in the container. I saw the first lot of four children move across the street . It was early in the morning which curbed me from talking to them, but when the second lot were moving across I could not help myself from obstructing them. I peered into their faces. They were all that which any child could be. I could see the smile on their beaming countenance wither as if they were offended. I noticed that the oldest boy was around nine years old and was dressed in a cream shirt and  black trousers which were soiled but in an excellent state.

 I noticed that the other children who were a few years younger were also well dressed though their clothes were mucky.

They answered my questioning looks saying that they were on the way to beg food. I felt deeply disappointed that the future of India wished to beg rather than earn. They said that they slept on empty stomachs in the night and tried  to evoke sympathy while giving  me beseeching looks . They did not look like orphans or seem ravenous , in fact they appeared well fed and happy. The eldest one said their parents did not work and so they had to beg. I began searching for my mobile and they crept away . I turned and saw far away the first lot of kids were with a lady who had a  half filled white gunny sack . The first lot of children were helping her  fill the sack by pouring trash in it. On one hand the mother was making money selling the  trash while on the other hand she had transformed her children into vagrants to gratify her immediate needs which she felt were superior to the prospect of making them educated. I realised begging has  become one of the easiest ways of  making money.

It reminded me of the well dressed lady with a little child  inevitably pleading for money. My anger flared as she looked  half as old as me  and had a vulnerable expression. When I told her I would give her an employment, she walked away never to be found  in the vicinity. When I tell young children who are begging for money, to join school and that I could get an admission for them, they sneak away. I had read in the newspapers that the number of beggars in India have increased drastically probably because it is an occupation of earning money with the least effort. The local trains in Mumbai have  eunuchs who threaten women in the ladies coach with loud claps, saying that they would place their hand on our heads and all the misfortunes in the world would befall on us. I used to carry a rupee in my closed fist because  I was frightened of their looks and behaviour to the core but my friend Nancy would protest and not let me give the money. She was bold and never minded their looks or curses , she would say that we were encouraging begging but I was trying to escape this harsh fact of life by throwing a penny and turning my face away from reality. She cared for the nation and said if all of us denied money to these beggars they would certainly resort to a better form of employment, but for people it is a form of charity to escape from their own sins.

 It  reminded me of a young lady who lugs a child around six months old while begging in front of a famous sweet shop at Nigdi in Pune. She waves the child’s hand to the onlookers converting the child into a beggar before the child even acquires its  mother tongue. The irony is  that she has begged for years with a child of the same age throughout the year without being in the family way or the child growing. We would always wonder from where she brought these pathetic looking children and we also marvelled at the on goers who never found  it strange that this lady got money from them for years together.

At almost every  traffic signal we find the old and the young begging with no traffic police to control them. The old require to be empathised and rehabilitated but we found the youngsters and kids smarter in extracting money from people. Many a times when the traffic lights  changed  to green , the young children would be seen rushing to their mothers to share their booty.

At a church near Kendriya  Vidyalaya, IIT Powai in Mumbai, we met a lady who was old and disabled, the watchman of the church told me that she had to factually sleep on the road if no one was able to bring her into the church in the night.  I could empathise with the unspoken trauma of this lady . Many of us  feel  that one life is insufficient to fulfill  dreams through the abilities bestowed by God but here we see people of the most striking nation give up their  sagacity of strength of mind to just fall back on the left outs of people .

Giving money to these vagrants is a malicious act  which may damage their lives by drugs and a misuse of  alcohol through overdoses in situations . Perhaps joining an NGO and re establishing people who beg in orphanages with schooling or jobs should be a better option.

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies . . . Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die . . . It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away.” ― Ray Bradbury