Frankly, for June (she doesnt know it though) her parents are the change agents. We are to her the window to the world. And as most windows these day (including our dear Mr. Gates') we rarely leave them open. We either keep them closed or put tainted - oops I mean tinted - or smoked glass infront of them. June will see the world thru these very glasses that her parents have gathered over the years.
Talking of a dehumanised world. On the most recent birth anniversary of our dear old Mahatma we were returning from Sudeshna's erstwhile home speeding down Salt Lake bypass. I suddenly caught the sight of a small car stationary in the middle of the road. Curiously I peered out of my window only to find out the occupants of the car looking down at a man lying on the road with his mangled cycle beside him. It was nearly 10 in the night, the road was secluded to say the least.
We didnt even stop. I suddenly became silent unable to respond to the calls of humanity. With June in the car my father felt we couldnt afford to take all the trouble. My mother did the customary "ish bechara","poor fellow" thing. Sudeshna seemed the most affected and was pressing for the need to take the man to the nearest hospital. But I guess she also knew that we wouldnt do it. All this while we were speeding further and further away from the man and from ourselves. Happily June still does not have the sensibility to realise how her known ones responded to the call of humanity. There is no way to find out what happened to the man. I trust there are still some humanised souls around. Mostly people who still have not got too comfortable in life for them to fear losing it.
I returned home. I played with June and I slept a good night's sleep. Sorry June! your papa is no different from the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment