Those Little Soldiers

After a long gap I was finally returning home. Instead of choosing a direct bus to my land, I opted for the one that has its final destination at Baripada, for the simple reason that I could not for long stand the hot sun ogling so sternly at me. Anyway ‘picking up something that stops midway ` simply means I had some extra bucks for spending on another bus to complete my homecoming. (I wish I could probably have saved those bucks to eat some more of chicken rolls at college square).The only sparing thing was that it was an AC bus, thank God!

Soon the journey started with the movement of the bus. It was around 2-3pm, the bus halted at Bhadrak for a while. Some passengers were alighting off the bus. Struggling against the crowd of passengers ready to alight from the bus appeared two small boys with blue and green color polythene in both hands. And in no time the whole army of these little innocent traders turned up ”3 cucumbers for 10rs ” There were 3 to 4 boys (aged between 10 to 12) selling . For the passengers travelling in the same rout in any public bus they were quite familiar faces. I myself had encountered several scenes beforehand. The scene on that day, however was quite different. The noon was literally boiling, temperature was quite high. Yet there was a scene for the struggle for existence; these little children going from one bus to another selling cucumbers were earning their means of living. This was the fight, I believe, which human civilization has been fighting against poverty and starvation. We live in a world where people who should be doing labor have taken to begging as an easy occupation-where children who ought to be in schools have been struggling the real agony of the poverty and social inequity. Peeping through the windows of the bus, I could also see a little girl sitting on the roadside with a bucket of cucumbers and peeling them off. Her black gloomy skin was being exposed to the piercing rays of the sun. Yet her  unanguished  face bore a sublime dignity; her pale lips a half-born  smile .Inside the bus those small traders were making a brisk business. I myself bought some for my empty stomach. In spite of the heat and dust which dominated the ambience, they looked cheerful, untorment and their smiling faces and agility in body language made an impression that poverty for sure had not been quite successful in draining their zest of childhood. They simply didn’t invite my sympathy. In fact I was struck with nostalgia. Nostalgia is a stray bitch, it can attack you anytime and anywhere. In a flash I could remember what my childhood was like. Everything back then seemed sweet and innocent. My infancy, in a more poetic way was a sumptuous feast of sweetness and beauty. My family was not that opulent but they provided me with the ‘amenities indispensable according to them’ as well as ‘things which my fanciful mind demanded for’. We didn`t have electricity then, I have quite a few experiences of sleeping under the bare sky in our courtyard during the summer. I would sleep with my grandfather staring at the moon and stars while simultaneously listening to the BBC Hindi. Unlike Wordsworth and Shelly, I did not write poems or that kind of stuffs in the appreciation of nature that exposed vivid and naked to me. But I did ran behind rabbits and sang along with cuckoos and taught the wild parrots how to imitate words. To put in a nutshell, it was completely in contrast with the life, full of misery and filth which these kids lead. Despite the incurable bleakness of life they are cherishing a hope against hope, living the dream of a better tomorrow and while the blazing sun roasted the streets with sweltering heat, they are already on a mission to live a life of their own. Food, they know, is a must to sustain. So they are just exploring the crowded buses so as to earn enough money so that they might avert the tragedy of passing a night without food and even the next morning with an empty belly. This simply attests that our so called democratic government has been far from the catering the needs of those who are the most needy in our social hierarchy. All plans and projects for uprooting the poverty and starvation have missed the mark. Poverty still exists. Starvation still sucks. And it is asserted by the people of all shades of opinion that government policies are predominantly theoretical ones. They are theoretical as a rule and practical by chance. Equally abominable is the attitude of the elite class who hold much of the resources of the world and they quite don’t bother to make a waste of them. Take an instance within living memory. During the thirties of the last century there was a worldwide depression which bought mass starvation and unemployment. The warehouses were full of food and other daily necessities of life. Yet man stood in the bread line while coffee was burnt in boilers and a Chicago merchant staged an egg breaking contest. The highest prize went to the man who broke the largest number of eggs    . This is an example as to how rich class misutilize their resources for mere amusement. Let us talk about our own country.  Ours is a country where a pet dog of an industrialist has more balance in bank than the people of a small town put together. Films here highlight the plight of lower middle class, but no headways are being made for the upliftment of the aforesaid class, nor any eye-catching strides have been made to ameliorate the poverty prevalent among them. The government officials have developed a penchant for circumventing their responsibilities towards those poor people, those women and their children. I must say that instead of making new plans which are less likely to bear immediate fruits Governments should ponder over well implementing those in action and in this regard individual efforts and public support will also go a long way. Society is based on the fact that we all in someway or other are related and dependent upon each other, so it is part of social duty to pay off the debt of the society by giving food to the famished or providing education to the illiterate. There are a few things in life which are as enjoyable as helping out these little soldiers. The pleasure is pure, and often quite intense. This is alone worth effort to wake up every morning with a smile and with the earnest desire to spread and share that smile with a few others..!