The Young Nanny !

I live in a relatively less affluent part of Bangalore, far away from the noisy night-clubs and mighty yet lifeless concrete apartments. The streets leading up to my house are not littered with pizza/burger joints or lavish coffee shops. Men from neighborhood do not ride in BMWs or Jaguars. By all means, it is a humble suburb and see, I am a man of simple tastes. I enjoy my-rented-2 BHK-house-that-comes at-5500 INR-per-month, thirty-rupee-meals-with-rice-sambar-and-rasam and a-silent-walk-to-work-that-lasts-for-about-thirty-minutes.

Yet, sometimes, my taste-buds take me to places where normally I, my neighbours or the disease-stricken dogs that roam our streets would not be found. 

One of them is "The Bay", the food court of an IT park, located at about 2 Kms away from my neighbourhood. Apart from McDonald's, Subway, Pizza hut, Baskin Robbins, and a Coffee day, the food court features an outlet each of South Indian, North Indian and Chinese cuisine (Forget the Zuris and the Le Meridians, even BBQs and Mark Boulevards are out of my league). It is just another common place food court with tasteless ambience where one can find moderately-priced extremely-unhealthy food, that also serves Arnab Goswami's half-baked ideas about social justice. 

Though the food court is not located in a very posh neighbourhood, it could make a twenty-five year old like me, who does not dress too shabby, feel a bit alien. Now, think what it could do to a fifteen year old with unoiled-uncombed hair, dressed in an outdated moth-eaten clothes. 

I first set eyes on her about six months ago. She was tall, dark and rustic. Her pierced-nose had a gold-plated stud as worn by village women. She was carrying an infant in her, which made her look older than she was. However, it could be readily seen that the baby was not hers. It looked too well kempt to be.  

As my eyes wandered about the evening crowd, I spotted the infant's parents, walking a couple of feet ahead of the young girl. I didn't have to look twice to make out that they belonged to the upper echelons of the society. If their Rolexes did not give that away, their boorishness did. The infant's grandparents, probably paternal, accompanied the young couple. Their attitude was not much different either. 

Inside the food court, both the men went up to the McDonalds' counter, while the ladies found a vacant table, one that could seat four adults. The young girl borrowed a chair and sat herself on it, away from the table her masters occupied, with the baby cradled in her lap. The adults dug into their meal, leaving the children starve. 

The mood in the food court was upbeat, even festive, on that Saturday evening. Kids relished their time away from school as they ran around the food court and played with their new dolls handed out to them at a few outlets while their parents, saved from the ordeal of cooking, savoured every bite of their unhurried meal. The elderly relaxed. 

And the young girl stared. 

At the beautiful kids, their colourful clothes, the cute pony-tails, the watches and shoes, the handout action figures, happy faces, and cherished dreams. Once in a while, her attention strayed towards the belle strolling the corridor and the handsome men who accompanied them. She always hung her head down when she got a stare back. She was shy as well as embarrassed  When the life that was denied to you stares at you mockingly  you can never look at it without tears. 

A few threw odd stares at her. The others simply ignored her. Her masters had put her out of their memories until an hour later they finished their burgers. 

Though I did not see her for another month, her face never left my memory. Then one day, again on a Saturday evening, I set eyes on her for the second time. This time the infant's grandparents were gone. The same four-seater was taken, yet the girl was not offered a seat there. She sat in an adjacent table. The meal was ordered and infant shared it with his parents. One child still starved. 

Time rolled and six months went past in six months. During this time, I saw her now and then. With each visit, I noticed that her eyes dried, her smile broadened and she matured. After six months, she had come to accept her circumstances and had adapted.

But not the infant's parents. They still continued to ignore her. They still trod on her dreams. They still had not learned to respect a human being, poor or not. The only thing they had any respect for was money. 

That is what money has done to our societies or rather what we have done to the society for money. Those who have it become masters and they enslave those who don't. Money has definitely turned us all evil. But, this display of extreme insensitivity takes the crown. 

After all, how could someone bring an innocent child into a World that is not fair to show her how miserable her life is. How could someone bring about themselves to shatter the cherished dreams of a budding adolescent who means no harms to anyone. How could someone choose to ignore how hard it would be on a young girl to face a life of disgrace. 

To all the bloody-fucking-rich who think high of themselves and treat humans like trash, I tell you that you will be fucked by dirty rodents in every hole of yours and eaten by rotten maggots till you die. 

Everyone dreams. Few turn them into reality. It is not money that aids this transformation. It is love, respect and passion for other fellow humans. The poor dream too and so does the young girl I met. I wish I live to see her realize her dreams whatever they are. I'm sure she will. 

Respect others, no matter how poor they are, no matter how illiterate they are. They dream too. More often than I or you do. Don't put your fucking ass on their dreams.