Story Old, Voice New: Only Thing, Help Them.

The moon has not yet taken over the sky and the stars are too shy,

To peep through the cracks and watch the story hidden by.

The little angels waiting down on sphere of life,

Watching the dazzle and hoping for prosperous smile.

Away from the social hub where every second person was waiting for the moon to come up, I chose to sit for a while in my own room. Crossed the corridor in few steps and what I noticed the walk to the room corner wasn’t same as it used to be, hundreds of thoughts and many questions deep inside. As I stepped in, a droplet of no value tumbled down the face, amazed of its cause I took to the rightmost corner, sat and went deep in my own ocean of thoughts. From the luxurious living, to the common middle class life, I started counting each and everything around, nothing was making me restless. I opted to close my eyes, may be close eyes may wear the spectacle to find the solution of the running tears and storm deep inside. And what, I rested in the middle of the Lal Chowk seeing the past days glimpse. In utter chaos I opened my eyes, asked myself, was something there that I didn’t like. The answer came, yes! I quickly tried to rewind each and every bit of the thing that happened in and around there within the the time I spent. The clock struck 6, I took a look, my blur vision could spot anything else from an old man with arched back carrying the huge box. Oh! My answer to the restless soul and peace scavenging soul lies over here.

Quite a busy day it was, Hussle and Bussle had put on the market but amongst all my eyes stopped at an old, ragged, wrinkled face with the torn out waistcoat and the soleless slippers, which he was more driving than wearing. Many questions started querying me like Why he isn’t like all who are here ? Where he has lost up his smile? Why those lines of worry have put in his face? Why this colossal burden on the torn bones and weak ligament? While I was noticing his move a little girl of merely 10 years knocked my window, I opened the window and she pulled her hand in front. This wasn’t anything new, too common, happens each day, every minute rather every second but this time for me it was to distinguish between two extreme situations. On one side I was noticing this girl and other that old face. The real questions now started hip hop inside head who is right the little girl or the old elderly person. Before more thoughts could have invaded the fissures of my brain the signal went green and we left the place.

Green! It doesn’t mean I really left a thought behind but for the time it went off. As I took to my old corner it invaded as the truth of the forlorn lane. I couldn’t stop thinking but can’t even forget blessing the old person. He left a message for me , for you and for the people who spread their hand in front of others. If he can do work at the age when hair has turned white not even just gray and the legs have lost the strength to move but the passion and self esteem to make once own presence in the society hasn’t torn off with the age rather has added to its grace with the progressing day.

Dear friends helping is not wrong but the way you helping should be choosy. I am not stopping you or telling don’t help the needy but I am here just advising rather appealing don’t give begging a space in society. It has become somewhat habitual than a need. Driving through lanes, throw the cards of appeal in bus with little children is no way right. You can help by yourself visiting the right place helping practically. Distributing clothes, books, pens, pencils other day to day needy things which they really need but please don’t drop a penny in the hands of the little ones. When we will stop giving they will find alternatives to do away with their poverty. It’s not they are poor but its we are poor, our society is poor and only we the common man can eradicate it.

Tomorrow is Eid, I myself wish to visit an orphanage and hope than many among you do also visit. It’s not always a matter of money but the love and affection they miss matters a lot. Now don’t restrict yourself to an orphanage there are many in our own locality who aren’t that well off to even afford the delicacies as we do on the eve of the festival be it Eid, Diwali or any other. We should try to light up the candle in those dark homes and give our little to make up something good, so that they can also cherish and find a difference in the day.

Dreams hidden many underneath the eyes of angels little,

Drive them to the destiny before they  go brittle,

Break in the pieces many of which no light can scatter,

And to enlighten the darkest of home will be the hope that used to matter.



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