Mein Kempf (My Struggle) - Part 2

There came a sudden Sunday, which gave me another turn in my life. No, it is not for the better, it is for worse. The books are sold to a vendor because Mr. Rao suddenly found that they are useless. A rich couple adopted Shruti. Suman is transferred to an asylum. In just a single day, I find myself even lonelier and life is drearier. There is nothing for me to do, the whole day. Except for the short learning time, when we are supposed to learn the basic science and maths, I spend countless hours sitting by the window, doing nothing, just watching people on the road.


Now, my favorite time is in the mornings and the evenings. There is a school just opposite to our orphanage and in the morning, the entire place is humming and buzzing around with the laughter and chatter of children. How much I long to go to such a regular school. But I never dare to ask Mr. Rao about it. I knew he will sneer about it and then the matter will lead to nowhere.


How sweet it looks when all the children are being escorted by their parents to the school. The fathers and mothers give a gentle kiss to the children before letting them go into the school. In the evenings, the children run into the open arms of their parents who then shower them with kisses. The child then starts recounting its day in the school.


Seeing all this again and again daily, longed me to get parents at any cost. I really have no idea what to do. It was the orphanage’s policy not to keep children once they become ten years old. They are to be shifted to another bigger orphanage which is reputed to be worse than the present one. Till date, nobody has ever been shifted to that place from our one as everybody has been adopted before the age of ten. I, however, posed a threat to this rule and tradition. Because of my crutches, obviously, I was unable to attract parents to take me home. Mr. Rao has already started mocking fun at me calling me record breaking scion as my tenth birthday is fast approaching, just a few weeks later.


There are only a few more precious Sundays left out for me and I try to make the most of them. I try with all my will and might to get someone to take me home. I appear to be quite friendly to them. I want people to say – “A little crippled, so what? Nobody is perfect in this world. Let us take him.” But never did I hear this from anybody. Hope remained hope, moving distant until I began to realize for the first time that perhaps I was hoping for the impossible.


It is the last Sunday before my tenth birthday. I will be shifted to the bigger orphanage in less than a week, in case I don’t find my home today. I become desperate, anxious and tense all at the same time. How can I do something, which I have failed to do all these long years? How do I make the parents realize that there is nothing seriously wrong with the physically handicapped children? How do I make them perceive that a little boldness and a small sacrifice on their part will help give a new life to a young soul?


Sunday evening and I am at absolute peace and bliss. Raju does not come to torment me. Why, you may ask? Like most other stories, does my story also have a happy ending? Perhaps I have got a kindhearted couple who have promised me to get rid of my woes. My dear readers, this is not just a story. It is a life, the life of a poor and wretched boy who is for real and is in flesh.


As I stand on my crutches in the queue waiting for the parents to some and inspect us, I realize it is a sort of ‘do or die’ situation. There are five or six couples today. None of them ventured to look at my tearful face once they saw crutches at my feet. I don’t know what came over me but when the last couple passes by, I just lunge forward and clasp their feet. I shout at the top of my voice.


Sir, please. Madam, please. Kindly take me home with you. It is not a son you are getting. You may look at me as your servant. You need not spend a single pie on my education or leg. I promise I won’t be a burden to you. I will do all the chores of your house.


There are tears in my eyes and this time, I make no effort to wipe them off. I want to show them for the first time in my life. I want to show them how desperately earnest I am. I keep on pleading until the rough hand of Mr. Rao is on me. He shoves me away to a corner and apologizes to the couple. The ‘kind hearted’ people forgive me and move on.


So this Sunday is also not much different from all the other Sundays of my life. But why did not Raju come in the evening to torment me? The answer is, he has been ‘selected’ by the same couple with whom I had pleaded and taken home with them. I frankly do not know how to react now. To be happy that at least he got into a home or to be sad that even the hot-headed Raju had succeeded where I have failed? I have mixed feelings and I frankly don’t know. Try how much I may, I find it difficult to be selflessly happy.


I have seen hundreds of Sundays and thousands of couples in my life. Is there not a single kind soul in the world? Is there nobody to help a wretched boy? Is there no love or humanity? Perhaps the civilization is transiting backward and not forward, as it ought to.


When you read this, perhaps, I am not to be found in the orphanage. There won’t be any frantic searches for me. I have decided long ago, come no matter what may, I will not go to the bigger orphanage. As far as I remember my struggle started here and should end here. May the world not see a similar story in ages to come. May my story be the last of its kind… last of its wretched kind.


THE END