Showing posts with label street children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label street children. Show all posts

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Living Beyond Time


Living Beyond Time

They live by hours and day. Their day begins with rising sun and ends with setting sun. To these hopeless and hapless millions, no month or year exists beyond the devil day

By Mukesh Sharma

The millions die unborn in India. Lucky few come out in fullness of time. Out of this flock, only a few blessed are able to live in time. The majority of unblessed ‘breathing’ human beings are caught in time-warp. To these teeming millions, the time doesn’t move; the time doesn’t exist. The miserable millions are born out of circumstances; they survive in circumstances; their days are numbered in circumstances. To these children of poverty, roti is a luxury; a sound sleep is a celebration. They live by hours and day. Their day begins with rising sun and ends with setting sun. To these hopeless and hapless millions, no month or year exists beyond the devil day. As the stream of the Ganga can’t be divided into time, there is no old or new year in their lives. These calander-less people live beyond time.
Living Beyond Time

According to the Lancet, a global health medical journal, 15.6 million abortions take place every year in India, and 81 per cent of it at home. Of course, unofficial figures are enormously high. Though the unfortunate mothers of these unborn children are mere victims, their fathers are poverty, disease, and illicit relations. Each abortion brings a death to the unborn and the mother is reborn again for another onslaught. No new year exists between a death and rebirth.

The International Children Charity reveals that there are over 20 millions street children in India; these orphans, children of single mother ‘penury’ fight for every crumb of roti (bread) on the busy roads of cities and at railway stations where they wait for the trains for the leftover food. Always busy in roti-hunt, these forlorn kids have no time to look back to old year or look forward to New Year. They continue to wriggle between old year and New Year; the old year never ends and the New Year never sets in.

As per Ministry of Women and Child Development report, there are 3 millions female sex workers in India; 36 per cent of them are yet to attain the age of 18. Since this ancient ‘business’ of flesh trade has gone hi-tech with the advent of internet, the unofficial figure may be four times high. The reported and unreported alleged cases of sexual abuse of minor girls in shelter homes and other ‘centre’s so called Nari Niketan etc. are not being counted here. To these daily ‘wage’ earners, the day begin with the setting sun and ends with the rising sun; it is difficult to distinguish between the rising sun and setting sun. These unfortunate women live on night-to-night basis. Their ‘dayless’ life has no year.

Going by the international poverty line yardstick, 60 per cent populace in India i.e. 763 million live on $3.30 per day or in other words, is below the poverty line. Reported deaths due to starvations and suicides across the country, are the tell-tale sign of crushing poverty in India. These miserable millions can’t see life beyond ‘roti. They are destined to live on day-to-day basis. They can’t think of life in terms of years.

Now the pertinent question is who is responsible for this sorry state of affair. People allege it is grasping netas. The most of the netas are getting richer and richer. The politics is the most lucrative business in India. The Corruption has become a business culture.

In his write up entitled Equal Distribution, published in Harijan Bandhu, Mahtma Gandhi says:
“The rich cannot accumulate wealth without the co-operation of the poor in the society.”

Needless to say, New Year may be matter of celebration for the handful of ‘children’ of Power and Pelf only. To the vast number of ‘kids’ of Hunger and Penury not only in India but across the world, NEW YEAR is just a phrase. They live beyond time. Robert Burns rightly says:

“Man’s inhumanity to man,
 Makes countless mourn”

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