Pages flutter as I sit in the doorway, spinning words for my letter to the loved-unknown beyond…
Placards up, we shout, we march, Rights and empowerment… but mostly with our eyes closed and ears plugged… I was among them until this little girl happened in my life.
A brand new dress each day, tattered here and torn there, with no shoes to match, in fact, no shoes at all! A lady sits on the pavement, a toddler in arms, monitoring, oh no I should probably say teaching, this young girl how to beg. Aged 7 or 8 or maybe less, with the strap of an old bag lining those skinny shoulders, hands cupped, “Didi Didi” she calls as she runs behind every passerby- futile efforts in the hope of getting a coin or two. Seeing this, I wonder what her sibling’s fate might turn out to be!
Yes, the same scene is staged every morning, and everyone walks past as if she is nothing but invisible.
Months passed, alas the day never came when I could flock my conscience to “do something” for her. By the time I pulled together some nerves they had left. Never have I seen them again. The world is infinite and so are the chances to help someone in life, my quest had just begun.
“It took me quite some time to develop a voice. Now that I have it I am not going to be silent” (-M Albright)
To you I write, an avowal, an open letter of fortitude. Thank you for being the source of guiding light, a source I could never feel.
Why am I writing to the “Fortunate Isles”? The supposed residence of all virtuous and brave is where I believe I’d meet my idol, someone whom I have never met, someone who has not worked for empowerment but was an amazingly strong woman, someone from above who has helped me choose my trail.
I am guessing you all would want to know who I am talking about… well, that’s for the next edition to unveil. till then keep inspiring yourself: We invented light and not darkness, so be your own light to the darkness that surrounds.
PS: This article was originally published in BPCL magazine