Wind of change
Cocooned in comfort and soothing music, she stared enthralled at the stunning vista of the shimmering shopping complex, a welter of lurid white against the sky turning lavender, tinged with mauve in between. Within the immaculate interior, her body rocked back and forth at the buzzing beat of drums fused alongside with pop; suddenly jerking him out of reverie, came a nervous knock on his Mercedes, latest model in vogue and a little murmur, gentle whisper for alms.
Exasperated she paused, disgust etched on vividly eyes, a paradox of contempt and revulsion following the avalanche of obscenities --------
'Go! Go away now I say! Do you think I live in fool's paradise? Fake! Fraud! Hell with your crippled son!'
Muttering angrily, she slammed down the accelerator; the car whizzed past leaving the woman clad in tattered clothes, standing forlorn, tear-stained. Unlike those who beg for drugs, purposefully bruising their bodies, she desperately needed help-money for saving her child, lying on the hospital floor, plagued with worsening leg conditions, 30% burn injury he had sustained in the recent inferno that had gutted down their slums, leaving them homeless crazily seeking financial support.
To speak of change, I might have bored you with my long account of sympathy for the poor. I must confess that we, as a society, (including myself) had contributed not a single iota of our efforts to extend our helping hand to them.
Therefore I propose that after passing SSC or O Levels, we spend at least two to three hours every day in community service. We might set up a library in our locality, teach the domestic workers alphabets, enlighten their mind with knowledge, offer to share what we have learnt in schools to be imparted to poor children, enrich their life with games, books and a lot more.
Will these changes really take place? Perhaps not now. Might be in the future. Would it not be too late then?
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