Monday, January 26, 2009
Republic Day
He lays down his life for us. What, really, is his reward? A posthumous award? His grieving, stoic widow? His orphaned child staring at his photograph? Can anything really compense a lost life? What patriotism can make a man do! I salute each man who has sacrificed his life to protect each of ours. I owe my life to each of you. Jai Hind!
Friday, May 30, 2008
A Little Incident
I just felt the need for a new blog. It's been like that, past few days- I've been wanting new things.
Last month, we went to a sweet shop. Appa took an awful long time deciding what he wanted-very unusual- and then I wandered out as he paid. That's when I saw him. He must have been seven years old, and his nose was dripping. A ragged shirt one and a half times his size was proving incapable of helping him stop the runny nose. Valiantly, he went on rubbing the nose on his shirtsleeve and looking up, caught my eye and grinned.
It was just a grin- but it did something to me. I mean, he was such a pathetic, little thing- dirt poor, out on the street, begging when he should have been playing with friends and learning alphabets by heart, God knows when he had his last meal- and he was grinning at me in a familiar, friendly, my-nose-is-running-and-won't-stop-It-always-drips-ain't-it-funny kind of way.
I didn't pity him any more. It seemed like a sin to feel bad for someone who accepted his lot in life so cheerfully. So I walked up to him, grinned right back, pulled him into the sweet shop and bought him an ice-cream. And left him licking it, eyes shining, nose dripping. The future of India.
Last month, we went to a sweet shop. Appa took an awful long time deciding what he wanted-very unusual- and then I wandered out as he paid. That's when I saw him. He must have been seven years old, and his nose was dripping. A ragged shirt one and a half times his size was proving incapable of helping him stop the runny nose. Valiantly, he went on rubbing the nose on his shirtsleeve and looking up, caught my eye and grinned.
It was just a grin- but it did something to me. I mean, he was such a pathetic, little thing- dirt poor, out on the street, begging when he should have been playing with friends and learning alphabets by heart, God knows when he had his last meal- and he was grinning at me in a familiar, friendly, my-nose-is-running-and-won't-stop-It-always-drips-ain't-it-funny kind of way.
I didn't pity him any more. It seemed like a sin to feel bad for someone who accepted his lot in life so cheerfully. So I walked up to him, grinned right back, pulled him into the sweet shop and bought him an ice-cream. And left him licking it, eyes shining, nose dripping. The future of India.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
