Like Daily

Like daily, today too I went to SSS1 for lunch. But today I was somehow caged with the memory of Dilip, a friend, working at dhaba, who does not have time to study, to come to me. He starts working in the morning perhaps at 8:00 and cannot be freed till 11:00 in night. I knew him when he came here at age of 12 years, I was doing MCA. Generally I used to tell him about games in computer. One day I saw him sad, I asked him, and a sad story came out of his mouth soaked in his tears. That his father had started drinking, that his mother had to work from door to door, that they had no money left and that he has come here to work. I tried to give him something, that I can, but he did not accept. Even in such position I left him, left for the job at a multinational, but that was more of showcasing myself in others almirah.

I came back at this place, I found him working for another dhaba, now aged 15 years, not knowing what he could do, not knowing what he was doing. I asked him to give sometime to me, so that I could give him what could give him better tomorrow. Few days he tried and finally rejected my help, my idea of educating him. He never told me why, why he rejected, why he left me questioning myself. My heart still pounds when I remember him. His face is no different than others of his age. All the faces that encounter me are questions to me. They daily asks me questions and a lot of questions and I am still finding the answer if I may. What can I do, what was my mistake, why only I am thinking of such things so emotionally, why not the dhaba owners think in the same way? But the god has generated an environment to see such things to happen and left me bearing the burden of all such thoughts. How cruel is the god, to me and to them. He didn’t give me power and money to them.