It had been a day in the ramadhan month; sketchy weather – a bit tough yet unpredictable. I had seen him from a distance, coiled into himself, and wreathing in pain; the young begger. He had been merely six or seven years old. He had been dirty; shabby with unhealthy looking skin, and he had kept holding on to his stomach, trashing around on the overhead walkway.

I had stopped before him, asked questions he hadn’t understood and he had replied in words I hadn’t processed; the language barrier had been the ripper! Others had began to gather, encouraging him to break his fast if he had been ill, so I had gathered that he had been fasting when he had not been okay.

I had been moved. That tiny little boy, who looked so insignificant in the sight of the world, had been fasting despite his illness. That tiny little boy knew the virtue of fasting when many healthy adults skipped the ramadhan fast based on flimsy reasons. That tiny, filthy looking boy might have been more beloved to Allah than me…

While I had stood there, my thoughts had travelled through different voyages of analysis; didn’t he fast everyday anyway because of lack of food while I fed thrice daily? Didn’t he live on the street while I had a home? Didn’t he…

But that man… he had interrupted my self-reflection rudely.

He had walked over, kicked away the begger’s begging bowl, scowling at the temerity of being obstructed! He might have been on his right as the road had been blocked, but what had ripped my heart into million shards of thread-like bits had been his arrogant demeanor; not the least mercy had crossed his face.

It still wrench at my heart every time I remember. So today, as I was surfing the net for some data and came across the image of the boy in the featured image session, I remembered that fasting boy on the overhead walkway and again, I found myself pondering…

Have you ever looked into the eyes of these kids and wondered how they live?

Have you ever looked at them with the eyes of a human looking at humans?

Have you ever wondered what their stories are, what led them to where they are, or how they survive daily despite the harshness of street life?

Surely, at a point in their lives, they had been someone’s treasured child. At a time, they might have been loved and protected. At a time in their lives, they might have been embraced and kissed by someone that loved them…

Have you ever had the sincere desire to take away their pain and loneliness or help them fulfill the natural dreams of children which they can never enjoy dreaming because life teaches them to grow faster than their ages?

That day, when I had looked hard at that kid, seeing the loneliness and hunger in his eyes, I had had a sincere desire to hold him and tell him, “everything will be alright”. Today, I have only one regret;

If only I could have held him…

Author: Umm Naml

Tags : music bandold club

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