Not a poem. Just what I live everyday.

And here I was…

I see a small child with a little dog nibbling from the same thrown away food on a dirty street

And here I was… thinking which exotic restaurant to go and have a delicious meal.

I passed by an old cart puller tugging loads, his bare feet and body immune to pain and scorching heat

And here I was …driving in a car and thinking when will I buy a bigger car

I watched the factory workers working in extreme conditions day in, day out 

And here I was... Thinking when will I be back in the AC room and cool myself

I watched a group of poor people with just enough cloth to cover their privates

And here I was...thinking when I am going to buy a new set of clothes

I saw a so called hammock, made out of a torn, tattered saree to cradle a poor baby

And here I was …thinking it’s time for a holiday in an exotic location with a sexy hammock

I observed an old man lying on the pavement, wounded badly with blood gushing out and flies on it

And here I was…One scratch and I want to be treated in the best hospital by the best of doctors.

As it poured, I watched the old, nearly half bent,  poor lady covering herself with a plastic sheet

And here I was thinking when to buy a transparent designer umbrella

How much am I going to turn a blind eye I wonder

How much pain of others am I going to ignore

How much is it that I see and yet don’t want to see

How many times am I going to ignore the reality that I see everyday

And when will I wake up and do something.

What’s the point just feeling the pain and not doing anything?

A chilling experience of a drunken father

One summer evening, my sister planned to visit me home with her hubby. Since it was a last minute decision, we decided to go and shop for some poultry products. We took the car and went to a nearby sabzi market . As we were returning home,  it started raining. My brother in law was driving. Next to him was my hubby and behind were my sis and me. As the market was crowded we drove slowly. Alongside us drove another car, few bikes and bicycles. In front of us was an auto rickshaw. As we looked ahead, we saw a small little head popping out of the rickshaw. With a little hand up in the air. I did not give it much of a thought thinking that the baby was obviously with someone and they were aware of it. And hence would pull her/him back in.

Suddenly my husband who was in the front seat said – “Slow down immediately. The baby is about to fall”. As he blurted out those words, the baby fell off the auto on the ground and my brother in law immediately braked. Next to us another car braked and it was a spiraling effect as cars rickshaws bikes cycles etc screeched to a halt. The baby had fallen in the middle of the road right in front of our vehicle. Had we been a little faster I shudder to think that we would have run over the baby. Of course had it not been for my husband’s strong intuition or his prediction we would have been in deep trouble. The baby must have been a year old.

I was shocked and rushed out of the car to pick up the baby in my arms. To my horror the auto rickshaw drove off. I picked up the baby and didn’t know how to console her as she was crying loudly. People ran after the rickshaw but the rick guy drove off. Luckily there was a police station nearby and we took the baby there.

As I my brother in law told the story to the cops, suddenly there were zillions of thoughts that rushed within that 1 hour that I was holding this tiny little baby in my arms at the cop station. - she was a girl child, maybe the owners did not want her and so got rid of her.. Had I done the right thing by picking up the baby? There were so many other people around, yet nobody had picked up the baby so why did I do it? What if those guys didn’t return? What would we do? I would be stuck with the baby. The cops sure wouldn’t keep the baby and knowing the cops they would harass us. It was then that I started praying like crazy for the baby’s owners to come back. As I rocked the baby she stopped howling and crying a little less.

The cops helped us by giving orders to stop all rickshaws in the nearby locality at the few signals ahead, assuming that the rickshaw would have not gone too far. We were still waiting, wondering, praying, what to do next as we had to go home and this was going to be a burden now. I have never prayed so hard and never felt so scared. I think all four of us were thinking the same and we looked tense and troubled at the same time.

But to my relief the cops came shoving in two drunken men, hitting them really hard. Their eyes were blood red and they were returning from some wedding party. One of the guys grabbed the baby from my arms and started crying. I don’t know whether it was real tears or an act, as it was a cop station. Well whatever it was, we quietly rushed out amidst the commotion and drove away.

Apparently both the guys were so drunk that they did not know the baby had slipped and fallen down from their arms. And one of them was the father of the baby. Moreover they had 2 more little girls with them.  Jeez..Can you beat it?  Even now when I narrate the story I grow cold. Why do parents give birth to babies when they can’t handle them or can’t take their responsibility. I failed to understand it. But sometimes I think they might have wanted to get rid of the baby as they were poor people.

Well whatever be the reason, drunk or getting rid of the baby, it was still about a little helpless baby lying in the middle of the road with rain pouring down on her. 

Life is a story

I believe that life is one huge book of stories. A book without an ending, Because everyday a new chapter is added. Chapters that speak of zillion and trillions of people who have a story to tell. It’s not just words. It’s their personal story. It’s our personal story. Stories that are lived, Sometimes shared and sometimes not shared.

We face life everyday with many challenges. Sometimes these challenges can be a turning point in your life, sometimes it can be the cause of utter depression, sometimes it can be an inspiration for somebody, and sometimes it can change your perspective towards your interactions with others. These are real stories without any fizz. Told to you the way it is with feelings without bothering about grammer, jargons, adjectives, proper sentence constructions or all those fancy English connotations. Because these are real stories of real people.

Every day the number of suicide cases and psychological problems that are increasing in the world is really a cause of concern. There are many individuals out there who are lonely as hell. Or simple those who have built a wall around them. Or those who seem to have it all yet have nothing at all. And those that have lots to share but don’t have the platform for it because they are neither writers nor journalists.  And then there are those who resort to the net as their only outlet, as their only friend. Net surfing, chat rooms, face book, twitter are a good platform. But how real are they? How connected do you feel?  

Here is a blog where you should feel free to share incidents that have happened in your life and reach out to people. The blog is all about sharing and connecting to people. And even listening to their stories and being participative.  

Not necessarily a touching incident. It could be an experience, it could be an article.  It could be about a road mishap, a funny real life incident, a stupid candid moment, a brand story or a foul job experience, a doctor- hospital experience, a creepy lizard in your house that refuse to go away, the pigeon that laid an egg in your balcony or just about anything that you are comfortable with but with a story to share and not some inane notes.

 Share Share Share. But let’s keep this blog real and interactive.

And sure every face has a story but if you want your story to be faceless then I respect your privacy. I would prefer people to give their names and where they are from along with a picture of themselves.

I want you all out there to come out and open up and share what you feel. Good bad ugly. Rich poor healthy, introvert, extrovert, funny, eccentric, genius, foolish, successful, average, sportsmen, couch potatoes, lazy, aggressive, young, old, crazy,  - whoever you are, whatever you are, just share your story and inspire everyone living out there in this huge but lonely world. But let’s keep this blog real.

Every individual has a story to tell. So what’s yours?