Life is oftentimes compared to season. Likewise, the human cycle also has 4 stages of life. Spring is contemplated as childhood, summer is seen as a youth, Autumn is considered as middle-age, and the vulnerable yet the determined elderly age is treated as winter. I find this comparison of seasons as the phases of life, truly a rationalized one. As in spring, we sight at booming beautiful flowers and also losing some. Similarly, in childhood, some kids are delicate as flowers but are imposed to mangle from the branches of its tree. Today, I am going to inscribe a brief story of a naïve child, who is certainly the most florid flower in the garden of human life.
We all complain every now and then for many things. Did any of us ever have a deep thought about how it feels to those with a quashed childhood and aspirations? And How people who live in devasted shelters and still smile with no complaints?
Many people would not find the story pitiful. However, I don’t know why every time when I come across this boy chanting “ Didi, chane le lo“, it gives me goosebumps. I have shared this story with my family, friends, and colleagues in the past. But now, as the team of Inugum has pledged to ambit stories, blogs, articles, and all cords of authentic contents. Therefore, I thought this is a good platform to flaunt the story of a child to whom I had come across.
Sameer’s small world and little desire
The incident goes back to the 9th of May 2019. When Delhi was as usual jam-packed with the daily hustle of people. And I along with my colleague was in a hurry to reach my home at the earliest from office. But all my swiftness hitched when I observed a cute young boy selling homemade chickpeas “chanas” at the metro station. He is often seen at Palam metro station gate number 3. However, that wasn’t the day when I first saw him.
Since the day I noticed him I had a curiosity to know more about him. I always wondered if he is the only family member for his living? Or is he forced to sell on behalf of somebody else? I had millions of thoughts recalling all the child-labor stories that I have been through in the news, movies, and serials.
Answers to My Questions
The very same day when I could not resist myself I went on to break the ice and have a conversation that was due for a long time. As like his breezy yet warming smile, his name was Sameer.
He told me that he is the eldest brother of his family and has 3 younger sisters. He added that his father died long ago and his mother prepares Chanas every day. Thus, he, after coming back from school carry those chanas and sells around the metro station.
Upon my question what does he aspire to be once he grows up? He answered that he wants to be a policeman. But right after this response he humming stated that the primary things that he wants to acquire in his life are to provide a good life to his mother and his sisters. A small 10-minute conversation with him disturbed me little and bounded me to think that how charmingly he is living his life without any complaints. On the other hand, there are people like us who lament over tiny disappointments. Sameer’s innocent smile gave me huge inspiration and made me concrete towards living.
Ending Thoughts on Sameer and his Life
His story and work remind me of a lesson that I had learned during my school days from the chapter “The lost spring”. A story about the miserable condition of poor children. They are compelled to work as laborers in order to meet the day-to-day necessities of their lives. They had a tough life working in a risky slate and firework industry. Additionally, they would clean tables in the restaurants, make bangles in a perilous factory, and so on.
These days we find every political party to be very busy in proving themselves a celestial being and so-called “Messiah”. I wish, instead of conducting rallies any of them would have done something in regard to these types of pure and innocent people.
Ps: Do try his chanas if you ever go to the Palam metro station, New Delhi, his mother is an amazing cook. Not all that comes from Indian slum is garbage, it may be the next Kalam.
Also, you may like reading Paika Bidroha 1817: The Forgotten Rebels
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Persistent with dreams and passionate about inscriptions. Gayetri is hysterically involved in writing, She treasures life and seeks to find beauty in whatever she is surrounded with. Celebrates Cinema, family, friends, and traveling!