Importance of Self – esteem. What do we need- food or food with taste of self-respect ?

As soon as I reached the railway station, an ox struck his sharp horn to me. My hand started bleeding. I moved to some other place, what else could I do? Inside I was disgusted how these animals could move this freely, especially near the railway station. Also, I was not unknown to the amount of garbage lying inside the station. Railways are such a mess, the dirtiest place in any state, I murmured while bandaging my hand. While waiting for my train, I saw an elderly man eating bananas and throwing peels towards the bin. Unfortunately, none of the peel reached the bin, which was irritating me even more. Ouch! Before I could reach there and put the garbage in the bin, a child slipped over it and got injured. It’s a bad day, these people would never change, I was murmuring continuously.

Finally, I boarded the train. I got a corner seat. I started looking outside, feeling air touching my face, watching every passing village, different kinds of people, farmers working in fields. It mesmerized me so well that I forgot the scene of the station and felt lost in view outside the window.

As soon as I reached Vrindavan, I hired a rickshaw to visit the temples. Beautiful! This beauty must be the reason Lord Krishna decided to live here, I was wandering. When I stepped out of the Temple, I saw a long line of widows sitting to beg. Most of them had worn white or off-white saree and they were looking with the hope to get some coins. I was curious about that long line, so I started a conversation with some of the ladies. “My son kicked me out of home, now I am compelled to beg” one of them sobbingly said. The other said, “I have no one to look after me and that’s why I line up every day to beg”. The third lady who was comparatively healthier said that she was from a rich family but as soon as her husband died, her relatives acquired her property and threw her out. Most of them were helpless, had given up on life, and had an intensely sad story. I was pity on their condition, obviously.

Well after visiting the beautiful city, I reached Tundla station to board the train. It’s still an hour, I murmured while looking at my watch. I bought some cookies and went to the waiting room. There I saw the in charge of the waiting room was also a widow. I was surprised when I came to know that her husband passed away 8 years ago and she had to take care of her small kids. Instead of giving up and begging she struggled hard to get the job. She didn’t feed her babies by the gifted or thrown food; rather she worked day and night.

I then noticed she was not in regular white saree that is generally worn by widows; she had worn the railways uniform very elegantly. Oh, lady! You definitely made us proud, I said in an appreciating manner. Her smile had dignity, self-respect, and hope.

Finally, I reached home, comparing the two kinds of ladies I met. I now question myself, which kind of people do we need? Why do women consider themselves weaker? Why do they think there is no meaning of life after the husband? Why do people give up so easily? And do we need just food or food with a taste of respect?

Readers, if you have the answers please let me know in the comment section. I will be waiting.

                           

A letter to Corona - an expression of different events India witnessed during the lockdown

Dear Coronavirus,

I know you are flourishing day by day, extending your root to the entire country, having a world tour, getting lots of attention but hatred as well. Well to be honest I don’t hate you because I know it was not your intention to enter and boom our lives. You came accidentally; to be honest, you were invited. I know you must be happy living inside bats but humans dragged you unnecessarily and then started the blame game. From snakes, bats, dogs to humans, you always got your host easily. Your life must not be as tough as ours!

I don’t understand I should thank you for unexpected college holidays, for extra hours of sleep, I get in the morning, for Daddy’s free evening hours with family, for controlling pollution, for making us realize that we can give up junks, for making us watch Ramayana and Mahabharata, for uniting India or dislike you for killings lots of people worldwide.

Hey, tell me one thing don’t you feel bad when we curse you, don’t you feel ashamed when we troll you, don’t you cry when we pray to get rid of you, and don’t you feel any hesitation while taking lives. I guess you must be. Don’t you find it funny that the economy is cracking because we are buying only essentials? You made us realize that it takes a very few pennies to survive, a lot to show off.

Family finally!

You gave us so much, a lot of family time, a lot of experiences, funny jokes over you, so much of time from our everyday busy schedules, chances to cook, and most of all a mirror of ourselves. During this lockdown period, I got to observe things in a little different way. I discovered Dad is not much strict, he is funny sometimes. My brother can actually cook well, sister is not that bad withdrawing and I can dance too. I got time to feel the stories of grand mum about the essence of life and mom is finally taking some rest from the dual shift of office and kitchen. Oh dear corona, I must be grateful to you for these entire things we were dying for but not getting time.

But, is lockdown the same for everyone? I am thankful to my parents that they saved some money and feeding us like any normal days. What about others? What about that uncle who used to pull rickshaw? What about that uncle who had a cloth store and what about Laxmi aunty, our maid? Oh no, they must be hungry or they must be praying for normal days. They must be cursing you.

How could I forget that policeman uncle, who still goes on duty, and that Doctor aunty who treat patients by risking her life? How could they work so selflessly? He must have warned people not to go outside unnecessarily and she must have cried over dying patients. Their family must be worried about them every single minute. In that case, will they able to enjoy lockdown like us? No, I guess.

I got some short stories for you, few are worth giving goose-bumps, some made me proud and some were intensely sad.

On 22^nd March, everyone whether common people or VIPs, rich or poor, children or elderly rang bells, clapped like crazy, and blew conches to appreciate warriors fighting against you. 

Do you remember the night of 5^th April, when 1.3 crore people lighted diyas, candles, as well as flashlights at 9 pm for 9 minutes to shun your darkness on just one appeal of Prime Minister? 

Better days will come, stay home.

Donations in PM cares funds in such a huge amount.  Wasn’t that a mesmerizing?  How differently-abled workers stitched most needed PPE kits for health workers. Wasn’t that a proud moment? The way Gurudwaras and temples are volunteering to help fight against you. An ailing father on his shoulder, a man in Kerala walked nearly a kilometers on his way home from the hospital due to lockdown. Do you know the story of 18-year-old Minnoli Aya who lost her mother Dr. Madhvi Aya who worked Woodhull hospital in New York? In Chhattisgarh, nurses had to mother a Covid-19 patient’s 3-month-old child at AIIMS, Raipur. Isn’t that sad?   

I wish you can feel their pain, you can see the tears of families of those 600 people whom you killed. 

Please don't ruin my college farewell party. I don't want to get graduated through "zoom". 

I miss my friends, I miss my colleagues. I hope you will go back soon.

Thank you!!