A CUP OF TEA……

It is 2’o clock at night and I find myself sitting on the old, crippled bench on roadside teashop. I have decided against narrating my cause for being at such a place at such time. But, just to give you an idea, I had been working continuously for 2 hours and failed to find a proper solution to the problem at hand. The weather itself was not too great, so even while I was sitting outside I could feel no breeze, even at this time, thus obviously making it difficult for me.

Sorry, I have this peculiar habit of digressing into insignificant details when they can very easily be avoided. The reason I write this is that somehow I feel that I have degraded as a human being.

Living in this decadent world thriving on iniquity, I found that even I have been influenced by it. My reason for saying this is that while sitting on that crippled bench, I witnessed the state of poverty in India. I saw this young kid and his brother make me tea, {at this age where they should be going to school and not waking up nights to serve tea on roadside}, a beggar asleep on a four wheeled cart used by hawkers, a rikshaw puller half asleep on his rikshaw, another kid half-naked playing with stones, indifferent towards the trucks passing by at full speed. While I saw all this strangely I did not feel a thing.

Had I been a human being I would certainly felt something, but I had this strange apathy towards all of this as if it was usual for such things to occur. I was not like this earlier but somehow I have transfigured into this strange obnoxious fellow, who cannot see others’ pains. I was thinking all this, while the events unfolding themselves infront of me told a sorry tale. The kid and his brother took rest in turns on a disfigured three-wheeler nearby. And I did not feel anything in my heart even then. I paid the kid and walked back to my room, discontent with myself. All along the way I felt sad, not about the poverty neither about the kids and the beggar. I felt bad because I did not feel that way. I had been a good kid, but somehow during the growing up process, I had lost my compassion and soul or may be I had been robbed of it.

“ Is this what my mom wanted me to be?”, I asked myself. . But the discussion seemed fruitless and so did the introspection.

I went to my room, switched off the computer, and decided to go to sleep. I know I could not answer the question honestly, so hence I to put the matter to rest. I don’t know what went wrong where, I don’t know what kind of a being I am going to end up as, but I know one thing for sure I am not the only one at fault, for the change in me….But for now I feel as if I have hit rockbottom…

Signoff:::

“Sometimes I wonder... will God ever forgive us for what we've done to each other?

Then I look around and I realize. God left this place a long time ago.”

-Blood Diamond

I wrote this one for a community post.Thought it was good enough to be posted here.

Hiding in a lie,
.........i fake a smile,to be with you.
Living in recluse,
.........i party all night ,to be with you.
Drenched in pain,
.........i laugh out loud,to be with you.
Bruised and hurt,
.........i heal others,to be with you.
Sick and tired,
.........i'll run a mile, to be with you.
Down and out,
........i besiege the world,to be with you.
Tears run down my cheek,
.......but still i fake a smile,for the sake of being with you...