Rains might be fun for the haves. But for the have-nots rainy season is battle time.
They use plastic sheets to cover their broken straw roofs and rusted tin sheds to protect themselves from onslaught of heavy rains.
It is a dismal picture. The whole house is wrapped. Sought of satirical gift wrapping of destiny.
During day time this sorrow goes unnoticed. But if we take a closer look, the nights are filled with much bitter struggle than days.
There are some who don’t have something they can call as their house. They wrap themselves in plastic sheets and manage to sleep under the shade of a tree etc.
With small children to look after, the sight of such families is pitiful and painful. If you are a ‘soft’ kind, it surely leaves behind some disheartening memory that haunts you silently.
On one hand there are those splashing in merriment and on the other hand these ‘poor’ are striving to survive the fathomless sea of helplessness that life bestowed them with. This struggle happens everyday. Everywhere. Before our wide open eyes. And also behind them on dark cloudy nights when our eyes are closed to blatant realities outside our ‘house’.
There is nothing many of us can do about it. Really not. There are too many poor with too little at their disposal.
But may be we can do something to those whom we notice. Forgetting the ‘big picture’ that is beyond our reach. I have no clue about the ‘how’ part of it. There is no one right answer. Perhaps there need not be one.
I have done my bits and pieces. Though trivial, it made me think of this reality around me. I feel covered, now.
But surely plastic left a scar while wrapping a roof.