Nationality, in the back of our head, still doesn’t accept these abandoned ones.

Posted by Humaira Ali
June 17, 2017

Self-Published

Let’s start with the common chain which bounds all of us to that one simple routine we all follow. From getting up to the sound of alarm till the very last thought that takes us to the deep sleep. Occupied with earning bread and butter, taking up the same route to work, meeting the same mates, going to the regular stores, shops, taking a public transport or buying groceries. This is how a normal day of a middle class Indian-being is ought to be.

 

Now just think for a while, how many of the new people you get to interact with each day. The new face of that cab driver, that boy who came in your office for a day in the place of the regular watchmen. The bunch of unknowns at the groceries, the girl in the scorching heat knocking your car’s window for some bucks or when you attend your father’s third cousin’s, mutual friend’s, wedding. What if we talk about the definition of unknowns in true sense. These are the beings with whom you are comfortable unless and until you get to know the background details of them. You don’t mind sharing the same bowl of rice, you don’t mind sitting along with that unknown in a bus. You don’t mind sipping tea in the same glass used by several unknowns which is just quick rinsed with the plain water. You don’t mind drinking water at the same chained glass at a petrol pump, which is being used by several unknowns travelling the state highway.

 

And now, what if you get the super power of scanning the details of these unknowns by a simple act of embracing the things used by them. These unknowns will be many. There will be a transgender in that, from whom you have always kept your children at a distance, and allowed just the blessings from their mouth,  not even an ounce more is tolerated ever. There will  be a sufferer, with the passive viruses of that disease, the name of which can only be studied in the biology textbooks and taken for granted by the parents that their child knows it all. There will be a prostitute who is not willingly continuing her work, but willingly abandons herself from the society, and her doorframes soil is the only way to be connected to the social celebrations of festivals.

 

Will you be able to continue then? Knowing the harsh realities, the daily routine, the addresses of the souls mixed with agony. Not at all, people belonging to the respectable families cannot share a smile, so it will be a complete new degree of sharing the same glass with these abandoned ones. How can a deduction be brought to this definition, what is the point of knowing a person to that depth where the roots of connections gets insecure. It makes sense of being connected with that unknown unknowingly  rather than knowing and being critical, weakening the naive appearance of your character and putting your strengths into doubts.

 

Well, we are a developing nation, we are so obsessed with the habit of updating ourselves that we cannot even tolerate a week old watsapp version. But somewhere our line of thoughts also needs an upgrade, badly. The bugs of the  theories of the abandoned ones which are fed with the doubts  needs to be fixed, ASAP.

 

 

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