A slice of Life.
I was making a quick trip to pick up some cheese and bread from the nearby kiosk. It was about 5 pm and was sweltering hot. To my disappointment, the kiosk was out of stock. I was cursing under my breath as I started a longer trip to the departmental store about 2 blocks further down. I was a trifle annoyed for having to make this extended sojourn. I was just pacing a bit inattentively rueing on the perils of domestic chores when I suddenly banged my head against a hard object. I was a bit dazed and as I regained my countenance, I realised I had struck my forehead against the end of a small log of wood being carried by a lady on her head. I just couldn't see the log end on which caused this accidental impact. She was actually thrilled at the windfall that she had on finding this log of wood. This would serve as firewood for a couple of days.
I swore a few expletives to the lady who looked very apologetic and she immediately enquired about how bad was the pain. My eyes were shut so I couldn't see her clearly. She had in the meantime unloaded her heavy cargo as also grounded a blue coloured bag that probably contained her empty lunch box. She reached out to check the bruise on my forehead. I had to really make an effort to keep my expletives just within the range of inaudibility. The bruise was hurting.
I gathered myself and as I regained my balance and composure, I expressed my displeasure to the lady for carrying such an unwieldy cargo on her head which had proved to be dangerous.
She said she was ferrying this load to serve as firewood to cook and provide hot water to her kids . She worked as a domestic help and walked from her home to work and back, a distance of about 6 kms one way.
My anger metamorphosed into compassion for her plight and sheer hard work that she had to do just to put a meal on the table. Her husband was a contract labourer and between them they supported a family of 7.
She realised that I was not doing too bad. She suggested that I should rather have a cold drink as she quickly piled up her cargo on her head and hurried home to her waiting kids for whom she had to cook. Resume her life, rather a struggle, to stay afloat to make ends meet. The plight of a vast majority in this land of billion plus.
A life that is almost oblivious to any indulgences, a life of untold hardship and travails. I walk out of the shop with my supplies and a very profound deliberation about what motivates such souls to live another day, that's only going to dawn with a new set of insurmountable problems, serious doubts about the next square meal, and an endless thankless struggle.
As I cast a look to trace that fast receding figure disappearing into the crowds, I realise that my bruise had stopped hurting. Thoughts about her pain and struggle serving as the most potent analgesic.
Dr Deepak Ranade
I was making a quick trip to pick up some cheese and bread from the nearby kiosk. It was about 5 pm and was sweltering hot. To my disappointment, the kiosk was out of stock. I was cursing under my breath as I started a longer trip to the departmental store about 2 blocks further down. I was a trifle annoyed for having to make this extended sojourn. I was just pacing a bit inattentively rueing on the perils of domestic chores when I suddenly banged my head against a hard object. I was a bit dazed and as I regained my countenance, I realised I had struck my forehead against the end of a small log of wood being carried by a lady on her head. I just couldn't see the log end on which caused this accidental impact. She was actually thrilled at the windfall that she had on finding this log of wood. This would serve as firewood for a couple of days.
I swore a few expletives to the lady who looked very apologetic and she immediately enquired about how bad was the pain. My eyes were shut so I couldn't see her clearly. She had in the meantime unloaded her heavy cargo as also grounded a blue coloured bag that probably contained her empty lunch box. She reached out to check the bruise on my forehead. I had to really make an effort to keep my expletives just within the range of inaudibility. The bruise was hurting.
I gathered myself and as I regained my balance and composure, I expressed my displeasure to the lady for carrying such an unwieldy cargo on her head which had proved to be dangerous.
She said she was ferrying this load to serve as firewood to cook and provide hot water to her kids . She worked as a domestic help and walked from her home to work and back, a distance of about 6 kms one way.
My anger metamorphosed into compassion for her plight and sheer hard work that she had to do just to put a meal on the table. Her husband was a contract labourer and between them they supported a family of 7.
She realised that I was not doing too bad. She suggested that I should rather have a cold drink as she quickly piled up her cargo on her head and hurried home to her waiting kids for whom she had to cook. Resume her life, rather a struggle, to stay afloat to make ends meet. The plight of a vast majority in this land of billion plus.
A life that is almost oblivious to any indulgences, a life of untold hardship and travails. I walk out of the shop with my supplies and a very profound deliberation about what motivates such souls to live another day, that's only going to dawn with a new set of insurmountable problems, serious doubts about the next square meal, and an endless thankless struggle.
As I cast a look to trace that fast receding figure disappearing into the crowds, I realise that my bruise had stopped hurting. Thoughts about her pain and struggle serving as the most potent analgesic.
Dr Deepak Ranade
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