Quiet careful not to get drenched in the rain, I checked different option to travel back home. Couple of friends do stay nearby but I still would have to find another mode of transport for 5 KM or so…By the time I got out of office, rain had subsided. One of my friends dropped me in a location that is close to my house. I got down from the car and jumped over a few puddles of water to reach a location where public busses were available for the rest of my journey.
Creativity or innovation you may call it in the latest version of jargons but for this man it was his need
My eyes stuck on a man who was trying to cross the road as I hopped past him. This man had no legs so he had bundled up few clothes under his bottom and a leather sheet over it to protect the wear and tear, his hands had a pair of slippers. His upright position would hardly let few strands of hair from his head cross the height of a car’s bonnet.
I looked on…
Infrastructure in India
The zebra lines never seem to exist, he took up a position on one side of the road assuming it to be the vantage position for crossing the road quickly. He made a desperate lunge to pick up some momentum to cross the road, unfortunately he could only take a few steps and he had to come back as vehicles whizzed and zipped past him. To his relief the signal turned red and most vehicles hastily came to a halt. Before he could dash to the other end of the road, like a last minute checklist he opened his bag that was hanging from one side of his shoulders.
I looked on…
The luxury meal
It was probably food covered in a banana leaf, he dropped in back into his cloth bag which had two small strings to carry it. The strings on his shoulder, he rolled his cloth bag and tucked it in between his arms and his ribs. The way he protected it sure looked like this was the luxury meal for his dependents back home.
I looked on…
The dangers of Indian roads
Almost all vehicles at halt and the man took off. His arms pushed his body as fast as it could; his focus was solely on crossing the road. Half way through he looked up to the signal, it was still red and he had a SUV and a sedan to cross. The vehicles had a tag hanging in the back view mirror, driven by well-dressed men indicating that they were employee of a white collar firm and both of them swaying their heads from side to side; probably enjoying the music in the car with AC in full blast.
I looked on…
The final dash
Back into position for the final dash, but before he could, the SUV started moving. The red lights turned green, the man panicked. Before he could realize, the big tyre was close to his hip and his body under the SUV bumper.
I looked on...
Where is the ‘white collar’ employee?
People shouted and waved gesturing stop to the ‘formal’ driver and ran towards the amputated man to rescue him from the SUV tyres. They brought him back to the same position from where he had started. The man was annoyed with himself but a cyclist came to his rescue, stopped the vehicles and allowed the man to cross. The white collar employee on the wheels of the SUV drove as if nothing had happened.
I looked on...
The onlookers including me
Few more from my same breed walked around but none were part of the rescue group and that is where shame and guilt ripped me apart…
Why didn’t I let my voice out…why didn’t I take a few steps…why didn’t I extend my arms?
Is it that I was too bothered about my hygiene than a man’s life?
Is it that I am bothered about my comfort zone that I cannot think of a man’s life?
Is it that my ego was so strong that I cannot think of a man’s life?
Questions hit me hard and needed to confess…
I did have a few discussions over this with my friends and found that this was not just a one off situation and I was not the only one onlooker
‘I’ in ‘I looked on’ is synonymous with ‘me’, ’you’ and ‘we’
Think to your self
When was the last time you helped a blind man cross a road?
When was the last time you travelled in a public transport along with fisher men folks?
When was the last time you visited a friend in a slum?
Selfish opportunistic competitive culture has taken over and only God knows where we are heading to… and that includes me.
…And when will I act upon?
Creativity or innovation you may call it in the latest version of jargons but for this man it was his need
My eyes stuck on a man who was trying to cross the road as I hopped past him. This man had no legs so he had bundled up few clothes under his bottom and a leather sheet over it to protect the wear and tear, his hands had a pair of slippers. His upright position would hardly let few strands of hair from his head cross the height of a car’s bonnet.
I looked on…
Infrastructure in India
The zebra lines never seem to exist, he took up a position on one side of the road assuming it to be the vantage position for crossing the road quickly. He made a desperate lunge to pick up some momentum to cross the road, unfortunately he could only take a few steps and he had to come back as vehicles whizzed and zipped past him. To his relief the signal turned red and most vehicles hastily came to a halt. Before he could dash to the other end of the road, like a last minute checklist he opened his bag that was hanging from one side of his shoulders.
I looked on…
The luxury meal
It was probably food covered in a banana leaf, he dropped in back into his cloth bag which had two small strings to carry it. The strings on his shoulder, he rolled his cloth bag and tucked it in between his arms and his ribs. The way he protected it sure looked like this was the luxury meal for his dependents back home.
I looked on…
The dangers of Indian roads
Almost all vehicles at halt and the man took off. His arms pushed his body as fast as it could; his focus was solely on crossing the road. Half way through he looked up to the signal, it was still red and he had a SUV and a sedan to cross. The vehicles had a tag hanging in the back view mirror, driven by well-dressed men indicating that they were employee of a white collar firm and both of them swaying their heads from side to side; probably enjoying the music in the car with AC in full blast.
I looked on…
The final dash
Back into position for the final dash, but before he could, the SUV started moving. The red lights turned green, the man panicked. Before he could realize, the big tyre was close to his hip and his body under the SUV bumper.
I looked on...
Where is the ‘white collar’ employee?
People shouted and waved gesturing stop to the ‘formal’ driver and ran towards the amputated man to rescue him from the SUV tyres. They brought him back to the same position from where he had started. The man was annoyed with himself but a cyclist came to his rescue, stopped the vehicles and allowed the man to cross. The white collar employee on the wheels of the SUV drove as if nothing had happened.
I looked on...
The onlookers including me
Few more from my same breed walked around but none were part of the rescue group and that is where shame and guilt ripped me apart…
Why didn’t I let my voice out…why didn’t I take a few steps…why didn’t I extend my arms?
Is it that I was too bothered about my hygiene than a man’s life?
Is it that I am bothered about my comfort zone that I cannot think of a man’s life?
Is it that my ego was so strong that I cannot think of a man’s life?
Questions hit me hard and needed to confess…
I did have a few discussions over this with my friends and found that this was not just a one off situation and I was not the only one onlooker
‘I’ in ‘I looked on’ is synonymous with ‘me’, ’you’ and ‘we’
Think to your self
When was the last time you helped a blind man cross a road?
When was the last time you travelled in a public transport along with fisher men folks?
When was the last time you visited a friend in a slum?
Selfish opportunistic competitive culture has taken over and only God knows where we are heading to… and that includes me.
…And when will I act upon?
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