It is our mistake | Teen Ink

It is our mistake

March 9, 2009
By Shailja GOLD, Patna, Other
Shailja GOLD, Patna, Other
13 articles 0 photos 17 comments

Favorite Quote:
The fear of rejection is worse than rejection itself ~ Nora Profit

It was raining'yes, raining cats and dogs since the past three days'the roads were forlorn. They were the same roads which were always full of hustle and bustle.
Amidst all this I saw a boy, a teenager'I saw him there yesterday and perhaps even the day before. And now I recall he is the same young boy who went from car to car which stopped at the traffic signals. 'I have not eaten food for a day; do give me something to eat. God would bless you for it.' Those words though spoken with an honest heart had never been enough to melt me; and I like those many others pulled away my car as the signal turned green'
Today, he was trying to seek shelter in a plot which belonged to whom, he knew not. Shielding from the harsh cold and the heartless rain was impossible. Shivering with cold and crying out of hunger for three days had perhaps knocked him out of his senses. The young boy has no one in this world, nobody to care for him when he is sick, and nobody to console him when he is distressed. He never wanted to beg but was forced to. He tried to sell goods on the signals, knocked on the door of many houses, but attracted no buyers for his handmade toys. Wandering from house to house for work, he had grown tired, but his prayers were left unanswered by the people, while the doors were banged on his face. This society had left him all alone; this society which includes you and me had left him to beg. As all these thoughts crossed my mind, it made me wonder'What was the boy thinking right now? What do his eyes show him? Perhaps, behind those tearful eyes there goes on a different scene; different from what I could see there. The scene of the many times he had tried to get work but only faced dejection.
Despite the efforts of the rain, it could not prevent me from hearing the sobs of the poor boy'sobs which I could clearly imagine in my head. I stood thinking 'This society which should have educated him did not even allow him to fill his stomach with a few pence of his own income.'
'Stuti, come here I need your help,' my mother called me and I, forgetting about the boy, followed my mother to do the daily chores.

The next morning our maid servant told us, 'A young boy's dead body has been found in the empty plot near the house. He died out of the severe cold.' All I could murmur was, 'It is our mistake.' 'What did you say?' asked Mom. 'Nothing', I shrugged and continued with my work'

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