While you look at the world through a broadened vision, I look at it with my myopic one.
While I get up late in the morning complaining about having to wake up and work from home, you get up at five in the morning and rush to take a bus to work, far from your home. While I whine about having to look at a screen all day, you face the brunt of poverty, washing dishes, serving customers in a restaurant, missing your school on most days. While I complain about getting the same lunch every day (the lunch nevertheless covering all the nutrients), you wonder if you would be able to get time to eat all day. While I complain about the low temperatures and the cold (sitting in front of a heater all the same), you get out in the biting cold with nothing but a shirt on you. You seem to be thankful for the shirt, I seem to be not so much for the heater. While I want more and more from life, and my insatiable thirst for more is growing with each passing day, you smile looking at the currency notes you earn every day, and wish to go home and buy everything that is possible from your money for your sister, mother, and little brother. My nails are painted the colour of gold dust, your hands are a symbol of your menial job. My face has the glow of staying indoors, yours has lost the innocent shine long back. I am a privileged woman in early twenties, you are a new teenager, working at a daily wage, eking out a living somehow.
Since past few months, I am looking at my life and then at the one of people who are living beside the roads. Every time I go out for driving, something inside me moves me when I look at the living conditions of the least privileged section of the society. Thanks to the times we are into right now, I have become more thoughtful about the lives of those whose lives aren’t moving even half as fast as mine and who have to think twice, thrice, sometimes even five times about the way to obtain their next meal. My conscious self wants to extend the longest hand of help for them, what is stopping us all in doing so?
For as long as I can remember, my father buys around two dozen or more blankets in the winters and distributes them to the people he finds lying roadside. A veterinarian doctor I know buys kilos of lentils and pulses and goes on in random directions in villages and distributes the packets to the needy people. He says people are lacking protein in their diets. He doesn’t stop there and goes on to monitor the health of the children he provides with protein at regular intervals. One of my aunties buys cartons of sanitary pads and distributes them to the girls in an orphanage she regularly visits.
There are certain people like the founders of Apna Ghar or people like the nobel laurate Kailash Satyarthi who have devoted their entire lives in the service of others. No amount of words by me can exalt the attempts of such noble people, and nor is it possible to list the names of all such people in a short piece of writing. However, my point here is that it isn’t possible for everyone to become the next Mr. Satyarthi or Mother Teresa, given the kinds of jobs everyone is into these days. My point is that each of us who has been given the privilege by Almighty to be someone who is capable of helping someone less privileged, must take it as his or her duty to help wherever and whenever possible. I mean just like my father, we can buy blankets and distribute them or like my aunt buy sanitary pads and distribute them among girls who have been denied the fundamental dignity of hygiene.
No matter how stressful our jobs or lives are, however little time we have, we can always extend a helping hand to someone who is struggling to eke out a living, while we sit on our comfortable sofas in front of our LED televisions, commenting on the farmer protests callously never taking out a moment to think about the ordeals a poor farmer goes through in order for us to have our plates full of food. Remember, it costs nothing to be kind. Be more kind.
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