C.R.Y.

Har kissi ko zamaane mein muqamal jahaan nahin milta
Kissi ko zameen toh kissi ko aasma nahin milta

Sipping on my Pina Colada, with a bunch of friends at a neighborhood café, I gradually slipped into my chair to gel with the environment. It seemed a place for the young and happening. A look around revealed the glamour quotient of the audience. Ambiance!

The concept of cafés which play music and proffer a youthful and shimmering environment surfaced in India less than a decade ago. From being a frequent place for the elite to, now, a meeting place for the common, cafés have evolved over time.

I sat there with ease, swiveling my neck often only to place my eyes on a pretty face. (Perhaps, that’s something that doesn’t even importune a mention here). Just then my eyes fell on this young boy wiping the floor. A sight so common, in our country, that it can put the word common to shame. He quietly picked up broken pieces of a glass from the floor, ignoring the slurs directed at him, and then vanished into the relative comforts of the kitchen. I felt a pricking pang of conscience but chose not to spend any thought on it.

Not seeing the kid for a while the restlessness inside me started brewing. Was he heartbroken or just too ashamed of his situation? And then he appeared. A mélange of emotions embellished his face. I tried hard to locate a dominant feeling but déjà vu was writ all over his face. He soon got back to his menial job, cleaning tables of those he should have been in school with.

I wanted to know what was going inside of him. Did he believe in God, his existence, his impassiveness? Or, was all of this beyond his comprehension, due to an upbringing which fated him little knowledge, leave alone the mysteries of life. He seemed a quiet person, though the environ was not exactly congenial for him to speak, his eyes bore that look. His face was a pale testimony of his misfortune, semblance of a listless life.

Carefully tending to his job, every now and then his eyes trekked up only to find mine fixed on him. My constant watch was not a matter of bother for him, but surprise yes. Surprised. Even I was. For, I had never felt like this before. The glaring differences in our society are there for us to ignore at every step in life. Then what brought about this pricking? I know not.

Sitting there I realized how callous we’ve become and how our society has conditioned itself to never be pained at the gargantuan abyss that exists.

After a while it was time for us to leave. I didn’t want to, but the regular joe in me couldn’t care less and decided to forget and move on. So I did. But a task remains incomplete. Some day!