Just as I sat down after closing the window, the words of a young girl rang in my ears.I hate the rains. Why dear, I had asked.She had replied,"Simply because when it rains my entire family has to sit up through out the night.The roof leaks.The rain water runs through our house like a stream as the walls are not strong.We can,t even cook because the chullah is filled with water.Nothing is dry, including us.We all appear like wet rats". I had never thought of the rain from that point of view.Suddenly the poem "A River " by "A.k.R amanujan" crossed my mind.He had written,
" The new poet still quoted
the old poets , but no one spoke
in verse
of the pregnant woman
drowned, with perhaps twins in her,
kicking at blank walls even before birth."
The harsh reality struck me once again.I realised once again, there are millions of homeless, who perhaps share the view of that young girl. It is easy for us to wish for rain sitting in the confines of our well furnished house.The condition of the poor hardly matters to us .I would not ask anyone to give up his/her pleasures.But let us atleast be compassionate enough to realise life is full of instances, where there is Cheers for some and tears for some.
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