Today I sat thinking why being poor is so bad, after all? I read Jane Eyre a few days back, in which she leaves everything and finds herself devoid of a place to sleep, a meal to eat and even a penny for any damn thing. She is very well educated person, so she thinks she can get a job, any job. Three days of asking each and everyone for any job, some job and she couldn't get anything, her hopes dashed and people looking at her with suspicion, she couldn't even sell her handkerchief and things to afford a meal. She eats the meal thrown out for animals.. very stale and poisoned one could think of in wildest dreams..
But something seemed at odds there. Its not the story of a century back. It seemed like a day to day tale. Why poverty brings with it - the hatred, distrust and ill-treatment by people. I mean anyone can land up in a tragedy - you maybe a millionaire - you can find yourself stranded on some place with nothing and if you are to be treated like that, what will happen to your so long lectures of humanity.
And she was not even begging - she was asking for a trade or a job..a menial job. Why all want to cling to their accumulated paper - notes and let a being die on road and not even leave him alone. But show in extreme's your hatred and inhumane condition of him and treat him worser than a stray dog.
God bless our soul, if we can't see our own being - in need and part with a meal atleast or share it.
Well not that I am a saint. It made me recollect an incident of my childhood. We were living in mountainside, which was very unsafe area- being forest reserve centre, dangerous animals roamed around freely at night and people always were in the safety of their home after 7PM, no matter what. Leopards were sighted walking on the road and what not. Now my Papa is a unique being, as I guess we all might be, but he is the one very true to himself and his values and notion of honesty. Noone stands if he has acknowledged the virtue of some task.
Well he was very late one day, we all were very scared and were waiting for him. It was in winter - when snowfall happens and people dangerously slip all the time while walking, though I don't think it was snowfilled yet- anyways it was too cold out to roam at night also). He came back around 8PM I guess, but not alone. He had a very drunk man, not well kept, seemed like a habitual drunkard to me, I was 9yrs or something. He kept uttering something and doing weird things, he was not even stable enough to walk. He was unable to tell where his home was or any contact number ( only landlines were prevalent at that time, no police station was nearby I think). Papa held him and took him inside the house and asked Mom to bring food for him. Now we were kids at that time, my Mom was very skeptical of the guy. She gave the food but she was concerned how to get rid of him. We were 5 little kids in house and we 4 being girls, she was really at her wits end - to allow any unknown entity encroach on house in this terrible senseless state. Now it was a dilemma - Papa insisted let him stay for now, will make him go to his place next day as early as possible.
I don't remember exactly what happened, I think - he stayed at the spare room nearby kitchen but I don't recall anything. Yet that day I was against him being at our home and very much surprised how can Papa even think of bringing him home. I am still not sure whether I'll be happy to entertain anyone myself, under similar circumstances. But that makes me wonder - how the hell we are so concerned about the safety - that we can't trust anyone, genuine. How fraudulent people have tempered our humanity - to make us stones to the sufferings of genuine people. I dunno..
Just that these two images - somehow seem so intertwined and disturbing to me, that I had to write it and let it out of my nerves..
Maybe someday - it won't be like this..
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