We call them MAD ?
Mahadhi impressed her first footprint in the house, which was going to be her new home. She is here today, because she was there in an hospital yesterday. Her parents had taken her there, to find out the reasons for her different behaviours. Even as a child(she is now 20), Mahadhi was different. To say it in the right language of the wrong humans, she was abnormal.
Her abnormality grew with age. Her parents felt her a nuisance and was wanting to get rid of her. Her rich parents, waited for the right moment and when it was offered, they grabbed it with both hands. They had taken her to the hospital, identified her a mentally challenged and threw her out of the house. They weren't worried, because she was not their only child. She was fifth in a long queue, that just reaches double digits.
Mahadhi wasn't unhappy either. She was relieved to be away form those uncaring parents and bullying siblings. She was happy to live with people who were like her. She wasn't exactly overjoyed, but she was happy.
And to tell you the truth, it was no house. It was a hut, made of dries palm leaves. The hut was situated right near the centre of a slum. Except for a couple of concrete buildings, others were palm huts. You could spot clay huts here and there. Most of the slum was tightly packed with people. The hut in which, Mahadhi was staying was the most quiet place in the slum, for all mad men were outside. No one cared about the hut.
On this particular day, everything went well, until lightning decided to show her power. She struck two deadly blows on the slum, one of which broke an electric line, running above. Electrons started to flow freely over the huts and well, before anyone could react, the whole slum was on fire. Soon, people were running everywhere, trying to save anything that's possible. Money, Tables, Chairs, Tv's, School bags, toys and a hell lot, and of course, trying to save themselves. And unfortunately, for those inside Mahadhi's hut, the nun had gone to offer prayers and there were locked inside.
However, the madness outside, caught them too. They broke open the doors and starting running in all directions, which they felt funny. Mahadhi was running too, in a direction, she couldn't name. Within an hour, the entire slum was ransacked by the flames. Mahadhi was still running. She stopped on seeing a man and a woman, crying at their burning house. Mahadhi did not see her at first. But, a short cry and a small glimpse, told her that it was not only the house that was burning. A new born baby was inside that hut.
The father and mother were crying for help. Many passers stopped by. But none dared the flames. The mother was about to break down. She knew, her child was going to die. She decided to have a look at her for one final time, alive. With tears running down, she lifted her face. Her child was not alone and not on the floor. She was crawling in Mahadhi's arms. Her fear evaporated. She started crying out at Mahadhi, to come safely out, with the baby. Mahadhi, couldn't hear that. Even if she had, no one can be sure if she understood it. She ran straight into the house, straight into fire. Both of them were never heard again.
News reached Mahadhi's parents. They weren't worried the least, as always. Probably, they wouldn't have come to he slum, had the nun not insisted them to. But they were her now. Only here, did they know what their Mahadhi had done to the little baby. They tried consoling the child's parents. they cursed Mahadhi, and felt ashamed for having her at all.
When the smoke was settled, a boy, belonging to a concrete house, went upstairs, where he found, something moving in the neighbour's roof. He informed it to his parents. They to their neighbour, the man and the woman. A ladder was brought, and two brave men(who ran away, when asked to save the child), ventured the burnt roof and of course the smell of burnt flesh of the surroundings. There was a burnt arm penetrating the roof tiles and top of its palms was the child, sleeping cutely, without knowing where she was. Mahadhi had saved the baby's life, burning herself to death.
The child's parents put their hands together and prayed at Mahadhi's parents' feet. The baby was in Mahadhi's parents arms. The baby woke up, smiled and hid her face. Tears rolled down the two human stones. They were crying for Mahadhi, for the first time. She had made them proud, all by herself.
There are a thousand Mahadhi's, roaming this planet, along with us. Let them Live. they are also humans. In fact, better ones. What do we call them, MAD ? Who are mad, They or WE ?
Her abnormality grew with age. Her parents felt her a nuisance and was wanting to get rid of her. Her rich parents, waited for the right moment and when it was offered, they grabbed it with both hands. They had taken her to the hospital, identified her a mentally challenged and threw her out of the house. They weren't worried, because she was not their only child. She was fifth in a long queue, that just reaches double digits.
Mahadhi wasn't unhappy either. She was relieved to be away form those uncaring parents and bullying siblings. She was happy to live with people who were like her. She wasn't exactly overjoyed, but she was happy.
And to tell you the truth, it was no house. It was a hut, made of dries palm leaves. The hut was situated right near the centre of a slum. Except for a couple of concrete buildings, others were palm huts. You could spot clay huts here and there. Most of the slum was tightly packed with people. The hut in which, Mahadhi was staying was the most quiet place in the slum, for all mad men were outside. No one cared about the hut.
On this particular day, everything went well, until lightning decided to show her power. She struck two deadly blows on the slum, one of which broke an electric line, running above. Electrons started to flow freely over the huts and well, before anyone could react, the whole slum was on fire. Soon, people were running everywhere, trying to save anything that's possible. Money, Tables, Chairs, Tv's, School bags, toys and a hell lot, and of course, trying to save themselves. And unfortunately, for those inside Mahadhi's hut, the nun had gone to offer prayers and there were locked inside.
However, the madness outside, caught them too. They broke open the doors and starting running in all directions, which they felt funny. Mahadhi was running too, in a direction, she couldn't name. Within an hour, the entire slum was ransacked by the flames. Mahadhi was still running. She stopped on seeing a man and a woman, crying at their burning house. Mahadhi did not see her at first. But, a short cry and a small glimpse, told her that it was not only the house that was burning. A new born baby was inside that hut.
The father and mother were crying for help. Many passers stopped by. But none dared the flames. The mother was about to break down. She knew, her child was going to die. She decided to have a look at her for one final time, alive. With tears running down, she lifted her face. Her child was not alone and not on the floor. She was crawling in Mahadhi's arms. Her fear evaporated. She started crying out at Mahadhi, to come safely out, with the baby. Mahadhi, couldn't hear that. Even if she had, no one can be sure if she understood it. She ran straight into the house, straight into fire. Both of them were never heard again.
News reached Mahadhi's parents. They weren't worried the least, as always. Probably, they wouldn't have come to he slum, had the nun not insisted them to. But they were her now. Only here, did they know what their Mahadhi had done to the little baby. They tried consoling the child's parents. they cursed Mahadhi, and felt ashamed for having her at all.
When the smoke was settled, a boy, belonging to a concrete house, went upstairs, where he found, something moving in the neighbour's roof. He informed it to his parents. They to their neighbour, the man and the woman. A ladder was brought, and two brave men(who ran away, when asked to save the child), ventured the burnt roof and of course the smell of burnt flesh of the surroundings. There was a burnt arm penetrating the roof tiles and top of its palms was the child, sleeping cutely, without knowing where she was. Mahadhi had saved the baby's life, burning herself to death.
The child's parents put their hands together and prayed at Mahadhi's parents' feet. The baby was in Mahadhi's parents arms. The baby woke up, smiled and hid her face. Tears rolled down the two human stones. They were crying for Mahadhi, for the first time. She had made them proud, all by herself.
There are a thousand Mahadhi's, roaming this planet, along with us. Let them Live. they are also humans. In fact, better ones. What do we call them, MAD ? Who are mad, They or WE ?
Comments