The Dance of life

An evening class in progress, the usual, dictation of words, somewhere the kids were learning the three letter words, and one set were trying to understand the necessity of tables. Business as usual, with the fierce sun filtering in through he canopy of trees in the front lawns where the classes are held everyday. The only difference was the advent of the mosquitos, nothing deterred them, well we all are used to those insipid macchars that bite and leave those angry swollen marks on one. But hey! We do live in the tropics so all was well.

Suddenly, a child started crying, gently at first as if she was trying to contain and then loud sobs. The teacher asked her what had happened and then she was brought to us.

Simran, around girl of 7, frail, her body balanced more with the ordinary pigtail’s that frame every girl child in rural India.

Simran complained of a stomachache, a severe one. On gentle prodding by Simer, who asked her whether she had eaten today. She said yes, I had. My mother had cooked food.

I took her aside and brought her in to the house where I asked her softly again, she said No, there was no food. Then I asked her whether the customary mid day meal was given to her at the government school. She said no.

I made her a sandwich, so that it would be gentle on her stomach.

When I came inside to make her a bite to eat, it shook me so much, made my eyes swell up with unshed tears, that we live a life so full of indifference thinking that all the roses are red, the glass that is seen is always full never empty or half full, living on optimism.

Do we, actually shut out the dirty, cocooned in our lives, entwined the superficial?  This is not to condemn or give myself sanctimonious edges over the others, just a reflection of where are we headed to. The path of progress that is built on the bellies of UN fed children is a sheer ode to the God of Mammon. We are progressing but inversely out hearts go smaller, hands go tighter, and we shrivel with lack of compassion, gentleness. The first reaction is, don’t be a fool, don’t be sucked into this, you should know better. Or, the fact that one cannot live life being an emotional fool, or how many can you feed?

I frankly have no answer but all I know is I have to follow my heart and it dances with the joy whenever I see a smile. The dance of life is peppered with many a stumble and a hop but in the end all that matters is that we die and ashes to ashes and dust-to-dust is what is left.

Maybe, if you all have a secret way to take the wealth so earned ahead you could share with me…