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