“Amma! Ammaaa…”the voice was indeed very sad.
Shilpa was busily affianced in her cuisine and remained fully immersed in it. She unbolted the back door and advanced towards the direction of the heart-felt sound. The vista of the situation was so pathetic that it deeply poked her mind.
Shilpa a middle-aged lady ,whose lone son was abroad on studies, had in her savings a true heart ready for empathizing with the suffering mass. And so also she let a liberal hand for the needy.
A limping mother and her daughter were standing in front of her house with a begging sign in their eyes. Had she got a magnifying glass, she would have seen if the thing called flesh covered the bones of both or not. The rubbish rags they owned covered barely a fifty hundredth of the rag-tags’ skeletal system.
As Shilpa carried a question mark in her eyes, the so called riff-raff duo blubbered in chorus,
“Ammaaa.., ammma.., please have mercy on us.” “ Yesterday our stomach didn’t churn even a morsel of food. We are hungry.” With a sobbing tone the mother mourned.
Shilpa, though born with a silver spoon in the mouth possessed a melting heart. She entered the house through the front access and within a couple of minutes came back with half a dozen idlies and chutney(breakfast items).The volume of glow that loomed in the miniscule eyes was unfathomable.
Both mother and daughter sat down in the car-porch –the car had gone with shilpa’s husband-and started swallowing the food rapidly. Shilpa moved inward to fetch water for them. Shilpa brought water in two glasses, kept earmarked for such purposes.
Shilpa saw the mother make the way out ,while the daughter was not with her. Out of curiosity she reached the gate and peeped outside. To her surprise she noticed a coconut in the daughter’s hand even bigger than its holder. She had in her compound a bulky assortment of coconuts, stacked in hills, after the harvest.
Shilpa was about to call the youngster back and rebuke, then a second thought raised a wall against her will. “Poverty only makes them nab things like this. Their scarcity of essentials is never their fault; some ruffians hoard all the wealth depriving others of their rights,” thought she and slowly she made herself off the scene to be with her day’s work.
But her mind was travelling with the duo, “People often tag such people as burglars that are hesitant to work. But who will give them work? Their vicinity maybe without any provision for labour and where there is provision, vicinity may be without labourers. Nobody is born as a criminal or hooligan, when the surroundings and situations hood-wink them, they rifle others’ belongings.”
Shilpa’s merciful heart ached for a while and thought, “It is high time I would have done something for the suffering mass instead of bearing a sympathetic heart.” She thought about numerous ways and eventually decided to splurge in the art of social work that can accomplish the upkeep of many a human right!