HOPE...

The little child had remained awake all night to see the dawn – the first dawn of the New Year. At last the time came for which he had been anxiously waiting for.  His eyes filled with wondrous excitement as he saw the sun rising up from behind the mountains. As the first golden rays touched his face, his eyes lit up with joy - a joy so profound that he himself could not understand its intensity. But as he closed his eyes in prayer, slowly he realized the significance of the whole event.  For him, it was not just daybreak – not merely a natural phenomenon but the symbol of a new start, a new beginning. He turned his face towards the light and all shadows were in darkness. The dawn appeared to him as a gleam of hope – a hope for a better world. And as his weary brain conjured up delightful visions of the future, his tired eyes closed.

He hoped for a world in which he would be free; free to do anything. He hoped for a world, in which he would have the basic facilities that every human being deserves from cradle to grave. He hoped for a world free from child labor. He hoped for a world where he would be sent to school rather than to a factory where he was made to work 12 hours a day. He hoped that his father would earn for him, instead of spending and losing his hard earned money in gambling.

He hoped to forget forever his dirty, ragged clothes and broken slippers. He wished he could get rid of the nagging cough that had irritated him for months.  He wished he did not have to beg, borrow or steal his way to two square meals a day. He hoped that he wont have to sleep unsure, not knowing whether he would get anything to eat the next day, or would he again have to beg for a piece of bread.

He hoped to put behind him forever the acute shame, which covered him, when he had to spread out his hand in front of people who saw his beggary not as a necessary evil but as an easy way to get money. He hoped for days when rain would no longer mean getting soaked to the bone because the only refuge known was the endless streets he roamed aimlessly. He hoped for a home, which would shelter him from the elements, be it the scorching summer or the numbing cold in winters.  He hoped for a world in which there would be a pen and a book in his hands not a gun or a bomb; where there would be peace not war. He saw himself holding a pencil instead of brandishing a gun.  He wished to see the war end – ended for good. He no longer wanted to see parents crying at freshly dug graves. He hoped never to see again children sobbing their hearts out for parents who had died in front of their innocent eyes. He hoped the wails of the siren would no longer haunt his days. He wished the terror of insecurity that used to engulf him at night to be replaced by a calm sense of peace and tranquility. He hoped never to see again the tanks that had razed his home to ashes and dust.  He hoped for a world where everyone would be equal. The rich and poor would no longer be distinct. He no longer wanted to be made to feel small for his poverty. He hoped to forget forever the humiliating laughter people had had at his expense. He prayed for a world where justice would not be different for the rich and the poor.  A world in which there would be government of the people, by the people and for the people. A government that fulfils its promises which it makes with people.  And then he woke up – not to the bright world of his imagination but one of bitter reality.  His clothes were still torn; the war was still raging. The little child hoped for the same at the dawn of last year but nothing changed. This time again he has hopes- hopes for a better world.......hopes which no one, absolutely no one could take them away from him.

 P.S This was the first article I wrote in my life. It got published in Annual Magzine of FAST-NU, Interface