It was 2:15 pm and he finally decided to get some lunch. It was a departure from his usual routine – he almost always carried food from home unless there were advance plans made to have lunch out of office.
Last night, for some reason, he did not feel like it and so told the maid to not pack lunch for him and that he would eat out. But now, lunchtime was already past and he was still not feeling too hungry. But he had to eat so here he was walking towards the elevators.
Just below his office building was a sidewalk lining the main express highway which passed through his city and ever since these office buildings had come up, this sidewalk was crammed with small eateries selling all the possible street food you could think of. Sandwiches, scrambled eggs, road-side Chinese food, South Indian snacks, butter-milk, fresh fruit juices, coconut water, tea – you name it and it was available in some shape or form!
When he stepped out of the building, he was hit by a blast of hot air just like it would be in a furnace. It must be close to 40 degrees, he thought, and loosened his tie. To top that up the length of the sidewalk on the highway side was being dug up for laying some underground cables and this was adding to the discomfort in terms of fine dust layering every possible surface and every breath people took.
He walked carefully, picking his way amidst the big and small rubble lying all around and climbed onto the sidewalk heading towards the sandwich stall he usually patronized, if ever. When he reached it, he realized that was hardly any place to stand, seeing that the stall itself covered most of the available space and the huge mound of dug up earth and stones blocked his way on the other side.
He ordered his sandwich and stood to a side while it was being made looking at the work going on. The other side of the piled up earth was taken up by an enormous pit, in which huge black metal pipes had been laid. His sandwich was now ready and after layering it with ketchup, he settled back to eat it. That’s when he noticed them.
The labourers who were digging out the mud and stones from the pit had also taken their break to eat lunch and were sitting on top of the mud pile they had made. From where he was standing he could see a father, mother and 3 kids, none of who was above 5 years. They were eating a little rice and some daal that was kept in an old newspaper. The couple had made 2 small piles of rice, one for themselves and one for the kids and they were partaking of it together.
He saw that both parents were covered with dust and sweat was falling off their brow in constant streams. Their meal hardly took any time and the parents immediately lay down on a small length of cloth for a brief siesta before their next back-breaking session.
The 3 kids were now left to their own devices and the oldest and the next oldest, both boys started playing in the mud with a piece of string. The youngest was a girl, not older than three years old. All of them were wearing clothes a little too small for them and those too were torn and frayed. The baby girl was caked in wet mud all over and had snot running down her nose. She continued to roll in the mud and as he watched, the oldest kid deftly reached out clutched her little ankle preventing her fall on top of the pipe in the pit.
The scene hit him hard; he was father to a 2-year old girl himself and he knew very well the emotions that go through a parent regarding the well being of their own flesh and blood. He and his loving wife had sit through nights when their little one had high fever feeling helpless about not being able to do anything to bring down the temperature in spite of being so well to do. He had gut-wrenching experiences when she fell on her knees in her constant quest to explore the world around and reach places where she was not supposed to be.
He had just seen how these hard working labourers had fed their three children and even then were hard up to make sure that it was a satisfying meal. They didn’t even know where their next meal would be coming from – their parents were day-wage workers and lived from day to day though they were honest and resourceful. But he could see the expressions of these children surrounded by the mud and squalor; they were peaceful faces, faces which retained a winning smile along with everything, in spite of everything.
Again he was overcome with the same helpless feeling when he looked at the baby girl on the heap of mud with her two older brothers forming a protective circle around her even as they played. Looking away, he ordered for a bunch of sandwiches to be packed up. Paying for them and taking the plastic carry bag with the sandwiches, he climbed up the mound where the parents lay in the deep slumber of the exhausted. He gently placed the bag next to them. Then he dipped into his wallet and found three hundred rupee notes, which was all he had at that point, folded them and tucked them into the bag. He knew that the oldest boy had noticed and he gestured to him to make sure the bag was safe.
He quickly walked away towards the office building but couldn’t resist looking back one last time. His last view was of the three children sitting together and smiling at something the little one had done. He might have made that one day for that family. But what then……..?????????
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What can we do to alleviate the situation for thousands of such families who are essentially honest, hard-working but are nomadic in nature and live on day-to-day labour as and when they get some work. One time help rendered by the protaganist above may serve to bring about a brief respite for these people as also reduce the guilt people like us might feel when we witness such moments - but in the long run, is but a drop in the ocean.
