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http://www.indusladies.com/forums/finest-blogs-of-il/87444-finest-blog-runner up-february-2010

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Weeping all around, how can I live here?
The world is so so bad, how can I pass a day,
I don’t want to read the evening news papers
I don’t want to hear the frightful breaking news.

Crying all around, reasons are so much…
The men are so so bad, how can I live with them.
How can I wish good luck, I know that won’t work
How can I have a wish, I lost all my hopes.

Battles all around, for winning big zeros
The rulers are so bad; they may kill us too,
How can I vote for them, nothing good to choose?
How can I trust on them, once they broke all trusts?

Cheatings all around, for earning bad zeros,
The sellers are not good, they sold all their goodness.
Byers also cheat; they want to buy all sins.
How can I be honest, in this world of frauds?

How they win the world by killing all of us?
How they enjoy wealth by cheating all of us?
How they smell fragrance by spraying all our blood?
What a world is this? Can I have an answer?

I can see mothers, wandering all around,
Expelled from their homes, reasons are many.
How their sons can sleep, with their sons in calm
Later their sons too, will do the same to them?

Crying children around, in all the nightmares
Some of them have been, raped so cruelly,
Some of them may be the victims of all wars.
How can I stop seeing that? Can I have an answer?

How can I pass a day, without knowing all these?
How can I escape from all these haunting thoughts?
I can be in my closed room, but can it stop all these?
Truth stares me, that I can’t change anything.

Each moment I enjoy, somebody is in sorrow.
Happiness I can have, but somebody is in pain.
Can I have a feast, when others are in starving?
How can I pass a day, Can I have an answer?

I don’t want to be a priest, to live near to god,
I don’t want to be a prophet, to purify the sins,
I want to be a man among all other humans,
At least one day here, in my dream ideal world.

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Indusladies.com Finest Blog of September 2009 – Runner Up Entry.

I am also living in this hot desert, but I am lucky to have a cool breeze here, my loving wife Renuka and our cute little daughter Anjali, (she is an angel, with long curly hair and blue eyes), also one more person, our servant Kamala (no, she is not a servant, but one of our family member)

I am not a writer, I write only project reports and official letters.
Please forgive me if it is boring to read.
But still I want to write a few words about our Anjali..
Story of an unlucky girl.
That will give a relief to my distressing memories.

When I start writing, my mind flows thirteen years back….
The big city Bombay (now it is Mumbai)…
I was transferred to Bombay from our Dubai office for a short term assignment in Bombay. I went and checked the accommodation facilities found satisfactory and then went back to home town in Kerala for bringing my wife.
After two weeks I came back with Renu and started a new life in Bombay.
It was very joyful at that time, work was only half day and then outing to city, cinemas, picnic, boating and enjoying life.
But we had only one sorrow that was not getting the luck of being a mom and dad after two years of marriage.
That time our conservative families were very strictly looking this matter and she was facing a lot of mental agony.
But as long as she was with me, she was happy.
We forgot everything in our own world.
Our apartment was in Kalina, and beside our area there was a slum were many poor people resides.
One fine day when we came back to home after outing, there was a middle aged woman (was looking older than actual because of her poor appearance) was standing in front of our gate. We didn’t notice her and went inside.
Before closing door she called us and asked in Tamil. “Sir, koncham uthavi panna mudiyuma?” (Sir could you give me a help?)
What? I asked.
Sir, ethavathu oru velai kedakkuma?enna vela venannalum pannalam sir.
She said she was desperately searching for a job and having no money to survive with her family.
What to do? I asked my wife. She was actually happy to get somebody in the house because she was feeling alone in the strange city at day time.
So I accepted her to come from tomorrow and didn’t ask anything about her payment.
I thought if it is a help for her poor family, I was happy to do that even there was no need to keep a maid for us.
Then Kamala (that was her name) started coming to our home and we knew all her stories. That was really pathetic. She was living in a small village near Madhurai and in her young age she fell love with a stranger who came for job in her village. She knew her family never allows marrying a stranger, so night to night she came to Bombay with her lover. She said, after came to Bombay she become pregnant and delivered a baby girl and lived happily for one year. Then after that something strange happened (that she never told us) and her husband left her and disappeared somewhere. Still she doesn’t know where he is after five years. Now she is doing some house maid jobs and surviving with her daughter. We felt upset and very sad about her.
Days passed…
One fine day after one month…
That was a Sunday; we were on off mood and relaxing, heard the bell ringing.
I went and opened the door, that was kamalam; she came for asking some money.
Suddenly I found somebody hiding behind her.
I asked, who is that cute girl hiding behind you?
Kamalam pulled her out and said, “She is Anjali, my daughter”
I surprised by seeing her, she was not looking like a slum girl; she was an angel faced girl with curly hair and blue eyes.
“That was Anjali”

Continues……..

By the time Renu also came out and she also liked Anjali very much. Anjali came out from her initial shyness within a short time and became our little friend.
Renu also liked her very much and asked Kamala to bring her everyday.
Slowly Anjali entered in our hearts with out permission, she becomes our great happiness.
We were very happy to be with her, play with her and sing with her…..
At one moment we thought that if Anjali is our daughter, how happy we will be in the rest of our life.
But one thing I was worrying about. She was already six years old and never started going to school. But without asking I knew that Kamala has no money to send her to school or there was nobody to help her for doing that. So Anjali was also living with many similar children in that slum.
I discussed with Renu very seriously about this. Shall we help her for going to school?
But the issue was we came for only six months and already three months passed. Now we have only three months left with them. So how can we take that responsibility, if I help her to start doing school, who will take care after we leave? That was a question.
But still we didn’t want to leave them alone.
Finally we took a decision to take them with us to Kerala.
We discussed everything with Kamala. She was more than happy to hear that and always ready to come with us.
We knew that we are becoming her gods in her eyes.
Meanwhile we went for a short trip to Kerala and discussed this with my family also, they agreed because they were also looking for a housemaid.
Then I talked about the admission issues with one of my relative who was the committee member of a reputed residential school. She heard all the stories and agreed that she will arrange everything for Anjali’s admission as a special case.
We become very happy and returned to Bombay again.
Renu was very eager to inform Kamala and Anjali about this and very happy to think that we are not leaving Anjali in this dirty slum, but she is going to come with us.
We came back to Bombay and told the happy news to Kamala and Anjali.
Kamala said Anjali was very unhappy for one week when we were not there.
She become very happy by seeing us and never wanted to go back from our house.
Kamala also started a dream that never before, her daughter is going to start living a new life that she never expected before.
We saw that thanks giving always in her eyes.
Anjali become a part of our picnics and pleasure trips, we took her new dresses and she stayed with us always in our house like our daughter. We never wanted to see her in her old slum again.
One day Renu asked me, if I can not be a mother, shall we adopt her as our daughter?
I laughed and replied her ‘okay, you can be her mummy and let Kamala be her amma”
Days passed fastly…
Now we have only one more week to go in Bombay, after that we are leaving this big city. But we are not going alone, Anjali will be with us.
That was the happiest part of thinking.
Mean while my assignment completed and received settlement and return air tickets to Kerala after three days. But I cancelled the air tickets and booked four train tickets for Kamala and Anjali also.
There are three days left, what to do? We decided to go to Goa for a trip and booked a honeymoon cottage. As this trip is in a honeymoon mood and distance is also more, so we decided not to take Anjali with us.
We told Kamala that we will come back after two days and third day we all will go to Kerala. So take care of our house and make all the arrangements for the travel.
Two days stay in Goa was very pleasure; we enjoyed a lot site seeing, beach walking, night dances…enjoyed a lot.
Second day we returned from Goa and reached to our house at late night.
Our gate was locked; we thought Kamala and Anjali might have gone back to her home after waiting a long time.
We opened it, went inside and went for sleeping immediately due to the tiredness of a long journey.
We wake up morning very late because of yesterday’s tiredness.
The time is already nine, where is Kamala?
She usually comes before seven o’ clock. What happened? Renu worried, she was eager to see Anjali.
Time passed again, now its is 12 o’ clock. They didn’t come.
Where are they, I also felt something bad.
We have to leave, our train is at 5 o’clock, and Renu was in tension.
I told her not to worry; I will go and enquire about them.
But really I was not aware about where is her house.
I had only an idea about the location by her words. Still I decided to search.
Some how after one hour search I reached an inside corner of that big slum.
Somebody shown me Kamala’s house. That was not like a house; just a small place under a staircase of an old damaged building covered with polythene sheets and had a tin sheet door also.
Some old people were standing before her house and talking something seriously. I heard some weeping sound inside the house. Is that kamala?
Suddenly somebody came and asked me “are you looking for Kamala?”
Yes” I told.
“Oh…sir, this is her house…are you from police?’
“No..why? police.. What happened?”
“Oh..you didn’t know? Her daughter is missing from yesterday”
“What?” Our Anjali…is missing…

Continues…

I become numbed. I couldn’t hear what they were saying after that, I didn’t see anything for some time…
Immediately I become conscious and asked them what happened and went inside to see Kamala. She was laying in the bed looks half conscious.
By seeing me she started crying again by calling Anjali. I told her not to worry, we will find out her somehow.
I came to know how the incident happened. Anjali was there in front of our house yesterday evening; probably she was looking to road and waiting for our arrival. Kamala was somewhere inside doing some work. That time she had been abducted by some stranger, but nobody saw that, and no eye witness, what to do?
I was not able to tell this to Renu, but I had to tell her that. She also becomes shocked by hearing that. I cancelled all the tickets and immediately took all the possible actions to trace out the girl. We brought Kamala to our house and Renu tried to console her.
I was also new in the big city and didn’t know how to manage such a situation and there were nobody else to help us.
But I think, I tried all possible ways to trace her, but we failed…
Police was not much co operative, may be they are hopeless to trace a little girl in the million people city…
We stayed there three more weeks and personally went through all the roads nearby and searched each and every beggar groups and wandering people.
But we never found our Anjali…
When the days passed…we become hopeless..
Where she has gone?
Who took her out?..All questions are still unanswered..
Finally we decided to leave that city, but what about Kamala?
By the time she was in a much mentally depressed state, Renu also didn’t want to leave her alone. So we took her with us and returned back to Kerala.
When the train started moving. I looked back once again; our Anjali may be there some where in this big crowd….Anjali, please forgive us…
……………….
……………….

Years passed….
I left Dubai and came to Kuwait, brought my family to Kuwait and brought Kamala also…
After seven years of treatment, surgeries and prayers, Renu become pregnant and we got our first baby girl….
We named her “Anjali”
Now she is five years old…she looks almost similar to our old Anjali. She is also looking like an angel with her curly hair and blue eyes.
But more than that she is the luckiest girl in the earth, because of having two loving mothers…
Her mummy Renu and her amma Kamala…
“That is our Anjali”
……………….
……………….

But when ever Anjali’s haunting memories come to my mind, I get depressed. If she is alive, she is eighteen years of age…where is she now?
With any beggar groups, …or in any brothel home….
I don’t want to think about that…
Still if I see any beggar groups we search for Anjali hopefully, but we never found her.
How unlucky she is…if she was safe for a few more hours, she would have got a colorful life with us and studying in the top English school..
Really unlucky girl…

“Anjali, we love you, we will never forget you”

With lots of love,
Ayyan.

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