Cruelty…thy name is human!

Once, while at the bus stop with a friend, a small girl came up to me and begged…when I refused to give her a single penny, my friend called me stingy…but when I took her to the bakery nearby and bought her some food, my friend laughed at me in communion with the baker ! Isn’t this why we often refuse to do what our heart tells us to? Isn’t this why often we bury our ‘service’ instincts and act like filth? Just because we fear that our peer group shall laugh at us? Just because we fear that the people around will call us emotional? Just because we fear that the world will stamp us as ‘vulnerable’? Why, why, why? Why is it always easy for us to sympathise…pity…even scorn…but never to help? Never to listen to our heart…never to express our feelings? Is it so hard…or is it because these kids are no one for us? Would we do the same if they are part of our family…or our friend’s family…would we? Is it true…the age old excuse, “I alone cant change anything”? Cant each one of us make a start?

Cruelty…no…that is not the word…but I can’t find a word that can express that torture…that pain…so lets just put it as ‘cruelty’…

a small kid…a poor hungry soul…for having stolen a few crumbs of bread…being punished with a vehicle being run over his tiny little hand…they claim it is to teach the boy what is good and what is bad…

a small kid…a poor homeless mortal…though he gets pushed away, he begs on the railway platforms for a little something tht would help him fill his empty tummy…until a burly man pushes him out of his way with his burly hands and the kid falls onto the rails…thankfully, there is no train there and none came…they claim it serves him right…

a small kid…a poor lonely girl…with a burnt arm…burnt with acid thrown on her by god-knows-who…..people walk by… looks at her with a lot of pity…throw a few coins…they claim it is her fate….

a small kid…11 years old…looks just 4…thin like a pencil…because his guardians brought him up on plain water and meagre morsels so that he would remain thin and would easily slip through in between window bars to steal stuffs from households…they claim these are part of a hard life….

a small kid…burnt from head to toe…with kerosene poured on him and set afire…because he failed to collect the amount of money assigned to him by the beggar community he was entrapped in…they claim it is his destiny….

Well…every destiny reaches an end…either with a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow…or with just more dirt at the end of a dark cloud…but for most of those described above, the dark clouds bring massive rain…we can just hope that afterwards, when the sun shines, they may walk along the rainbow road and the pot of gold will greet them……….greet them with the kind of life we enjoy!

Why not help them get greeted……why not give them a share of what we have so far been blessed with? God creates everyone equal…it is the way we treat each other that matters…so, what say, folks?

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