Wounds of survival !

I was returning from the bakery after picking up the cake, ordered for the New Year party at my home. Looking at the crazy traffic and the crowded roads, I started walking faster; worrying if I would reach home on time before all the friends arrived. It was a struggle, walking amid the traffic to reach my car. The cacophony was growing way beyond the decibel levels any human being could possibly take! Suddenly, in all the chaos, I heard refreshing sound of tinkling of anklets; followed by some slow drum beats and glass bangles, heading slowly towards me. 

When I looked around, it was an imposing sight! There was a group of about ten people; some of them in vibrantly picturesque attires, playing drums and cracking the whip in air that made scary sound. It took me a while to understand what exactly they were up to. I was under spell of shock, looking at the children who were barely clothed on that cold evening. The group read curiosity and disbelief in my eyes and approached me with utmost politeness and requested to watch their performance. Before I could even respond to them, they lead me to a corner and I followed, as if mesmerized!   

  
It was macabre expression of most inhuman facet of life to watch two children doing stunts with the whips and knives. I urged them vehemently to stop their show, the moment I saw the children crack the whip on their bodies. It was painful to see the mark of wounds slashed on their tender back. When I offered them help, they seemed hesitant as they felt they hadn't performed enough to accept anything from me! Looking at my camera, they suggested if I wished, I could take their pictures. I was so numb from the moment I saw their stunts that I had completely forgotten I was having my camera with me.

I learnt that, they not only made a living out of whip cracking stunts but combined it with some amazing knife throwing techniques. The presentation of their stunts was very interesting and they threw some humourous patter to make the performance lively and encourage audience participation. The children occasionally got an opportunity to perfect their skills by participating in dangerous stunts that often left them seriously injured. 

I chatted with the leader of the group who seemed concerned with the difficulties they were facing with each passing day. He enthusiastically displayed some brilliant techniques of maneuvering the whip and knife, despite me pleading him to stop. He smiled as if his body had no pain at all! 

When I finally left, I was in tears. Something within me had snapped, watching the group inflict so much pain for the sake of survival! With each new wound marked on their bodies, their capacity of swallowing pain increased. Every single wound, bruised and battered by the whip, was yet another reminder of their experiences of isolation, inequity and potential savagery it entailed. Perhaps, their physical wounds would heal with time someday but what about the wounds that were permanently etched in their hearts? I doubt they had luxury of even visiting their inner pain.

Behind the vibrant demeanour, there was so much pain and yet the people I met were all happy and smiling. They had dignity to refuse any help unless they were convinced they had earned it! What a divine experience it was to meet this amazing group. Despite our completely different backgrounds, we formed some connection. I experienced a surge of emotions during this entire experience that is difficult to put in words. 


Life never ceases to inspire me and when I am fortunate to have such fascinating, chanced upon encounters it compels me to salute the human spirit. All I need to do is get out of my softly padded walls of comfort zone and embrace so many layers of life that is unfolded every single day!