I was driving for a meeting, listening to music and planning things for the day in my mind and suddenly saw a child frantically running towards me amid the maddening traffic. He was waving at me, asking me to stop. I realized it was Ajay, one of the children whom I have befriended near D.N. Nagar traffic signal, Andheri. Despite the angry honking, I managed to stop the car by the road side. Within seconds, Ajay darted towards me gasping for breath. I sensed something different about him. The usual naughty smile and the chirpy demeanour, were missing and he looked sullen.
I asked him what was the matter but he was quiet, as if struggling to find words. When I put my hand across his shoulder, he held my hand, looked in my eyes and said, "didi, kaal ratri maza baap mela"(my father passed away last night). It was futile trying to pierce through cold horizons of his eyes. After a few moments of silence, with his fingers firmly entwined into mine, he narrated his experience of watching his father die before his eyes. I became numb with a lump in my throat and my foggy eyes were threatening to start avalanche of tears. How does one console a grief stricken child, barely ten, in such a condition?
While Ajay was narrating his experience, I realized, for him his father- a drug peddler, was almost a non existent figure even while he was alive! It was barely a month when Ajay had lost his thick buddy, Ganesh and had shared that shocking news with me in similar manner. Ganesh, was like any other nine year old child; full of mischief, laughter and eyes brimming with hope. His ambition was to start business when he grew - have a "thela" (a road side shop) and be master of his own destiny. Sadly, he fell ill and within days, succumbed to the illness.
Most of the children, whom I have befriended, are victims of dysfunctional families, parental neglect, physical and/or sexual abuse, family substance abuse, violence and are settled with pavement community (living on sidewalks, in parks or empty plots) and are always at risk of catching disease, starvation and abuse. They struggle for survival alone despite having their families. Many are lost in this chaotic urban sprawl, a terrifying place for them to live.
In 2000, the government passed the Juvenile Justice Act, which outlines the rights of children and mandates the government to work with NGOs to address the problems of homeless children. There are many people working in this field and doing truly commendable work. But looking at the number of street children I wonder is it enough?
I spent some time with Ajay, met his grieving mother and family at the roadside pavement and left for my meeting with heavy heart. I felt terrible thinking about if I had done enough for Ganesh. Wasn't I guilty of feeling that I had done my job once I paid for his medicines? It is not practically possible to help every single child like Ganesh, in need. But had I been little more involved, perhaps I could have saved a life! And that thought is haunting me as I can't forget Ganesh's innocent face, the naked truth of vicious poverty. My heart is screaming silently. All I need is someone to hug me tight! Would God ever forgive me?
