“You live as if you were destined to live forever, no thought of your frailty ever enters your head, of how much time has already gone by you take no heed”-Lucius Annaeus Seneca
The evening was filled with colourful hues, but the sky was dark and grey. It was the first festival of the year, a festival everyone looked forward to. Ganesh Chaturthi commemorates the birth of Lord Ganesha. Goddess Parvati creates him from clay after Shiva slews him.
As a consequence of the never-ending second wave of Pandemic and anticipation of the third wave, people hid for a moment, but the market was full of festivities nonetheless. We saw a few vagrants moving around with glass bottles that had lights inside a few days before the festival. As soon as the bottles were switched on, they lit up with bright colours. These little boys ran about in the traffic signals and convinced people to buy the brightly lit bottles. People have familiarised themselves with online shopping and there was a hesitation to buy from these vagrants fearing the quality. A few humanitarians bought it despite their fears as they were compassionate.
That evening two of the boys stole a corner on the pavement that lined the city trade house. They settled down under the street lights, they had spread an attractive sheet to place the gleaming bottles on them. There were twelve bottles arranged in a block. They made three such blocks. The boys were happily waiting for customers but the rain played havoc. Within minutes the sheet had a pool of water….they still looked on as they felt it was festival time and Lord Ganapathi would save them but it kept pouring. After an initial tussle, they sat quietly as it poured all the more. As they looked on, a four-year-old beggar walked on the pavement. He had sparkling eyes and rusted brown hair. A mask hung on his neck. He wore tight trousers and a half-sleeved shirt. The smile on his face touched the vagrants. He bent to peer inside the bottles. As he turned around, he saw a couple looking at the coloured bottles. It was Neela and her husband who felt compelled to purchase the bottles. The rain had swept the dust and the bottles seemed cleaner. The beggar boy ran to the couple and gestured with a hand on his stomach. Neela asked, ‘Would you like to eat something?’
The boy nodded and moved his hand on the stomach.
Neela said, ‘Would you like a burger at the snack store across the street?
A hand gesture indicated that he was hungry but not in the mood for a burger.
Neela said, “Let me buy you something.” She did not want to give him money. The little boy ran to the nearby bakery asking Neela to buy him a ‘Fulltick’. Neela wondered what it was. As they entered the shop, the boy ran into the shop to the glass shelf and showed a tiny bottle of mango juice. She smiled and asked him whether he wanted anything more. He took the bottle and ran away. Neela felt deeply satisfied that she had done something good during the auspicious days of the festival. As her mood brightened and the vagrant boys made good business that night, the atmosphere seemed to lighten as well.
The next day when Neela reached the same spot she saw the place filled with many small kids. There were older ladies with them. They were squatted on the pavement of the busy square. They all sold balloons that day. There were many smaller boys. A few were ten years old and others were six and eight years old. Amongst them, she saw the boy for whom she had bought the mango juice. She smiled at him but he did not smile back. She opened her purse to give some money to the boys but when she raised her head she found herself surrounded by the boys. Every child had something in mind and they wanted Neela to purchase for them. She was frightened. As Neela was giving the money to one of the boys, a tall, squatted lady deftly snatched it from her hand. The boy jumped and came to her and complained about the lady.
Neela told the boy, ‘Aren’t you all together? The money should be given to him.
The vagrant ladies laughed and the boys got up angrily and followed her. The humanitarian in Neela was frightened. She walked fast but the little vagrant boys kept calling her saying they wanted Momos and bread. Neela reached her car and quickly climbed into it and asked her husband to move on. The boys were peering into the glass window of the car and they repeatedly gestured saying that they wanted money and food.
Neela was gheraoed in her thoughts, there were mixed feelings in her She wondered whether the kids were stolen and used for begging. The festivities on the road drowned her feelings but the guilt kept her view fixed on the moving places. On one of the roadside hedges, she found a red hibiscus bopping its head. She got down to pick the Hibiscus flower. The flower was a source of great joy. Hibiscus flowers with their single, red petals are usually offered to Lord Ganesha. Hibiscus is said to be the Lord’s favourite flower.
Neela kept thinking about the children. She felt she could wash off her hands off like several others. It was the easiest to do but the hibiscus in her hand made her think of the short span of life and the elegance with which one could live in doing things for others. It gave her supreme energy to move ahead and collaborate with an NGO to help the children. The positivity gave her great strength and she knew she would handle the challenge successfully.
“The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today. You are arranging what is in Fortune’s control and abandoning what lies in yours.”Seneca
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