Where is Teresa?
"why this idiot starts this way" might be what you will be thinking, if you continue reading from here. Whatever, firstly let me say, Hi!
The day we got to know about death, we started thinking about our last day, literally counting out stay in this small tilted sphere. But, when it comes to the materials we do not even think that we are just temporary in this world. We earn hard for wealthy life and spend it for healthy life. Since that I write I am not a exception. I know it's good to confess few things before you question at this text characters.
Ok! Before I divert the topic let me come to the point. Reading the title "Where is Teresa?" you might answer "She is dead" or "She is in Heaven" or "She is in this world as a Holy Sprite" for which few might counter saying there is nothing called "Holy" and few, there is nothing like "Sprite". I know I'm not in the topic here, also putting myself into trouble. Fine! back to the point "Where is Teresa?" --
It was one late night, I started from office after enough rest to all my physical part to earn some cholesterol in body. Cholesterol I meant here is the fat, please do not understand something literally. Back to the scene, I reached bus stop and as-usual its crowd less in the late night so that i was able to identify my college senior, also a good friend of mine in the bus stop. We started talking about some old stuffs as soon as we got a bus and meanwhile we reached our railway station, so we stopped the topic in the middle and we ran to catch the train so that we can "Train the Talk".
We got into the train which was already late to start by five minutes. We were in the first class compartment. Aha! Nothing to brag about the "first class" here or at-least it has got nothing special in the suburban trains. Before we continued our conversation I saw a man sleeping in on full seat. I called him to check whether he was in right train or didn't get down from the train. He didn't respond. I went near to him, saw, he was old, so I called him loudly to make sure he's alive as he covered himself with his white cloth. He didn't respond. I got down from the compartment to check for help, I saw a beautiful lady police walking. I know it's little weird to talk about the beauty of the police here but still, let me tell you, I'm not old but an average "gentleman". I called her to and requested her to get somebody who can help that old man. That beautiful lady in-turn called a smart guy, a constable. With that guy two more of his friends joined him and got into the compartment to wake him up. The old man lying tried hard to get up after hearing screaming voice of the constable but jerked quickly from the seat the next moment he felt the lathi on him.
Old man, was bleeding his legs badly. Does not looked like a cut but like some disease. He got up but couldn't walk so he sat on the floor and spread blood all over the compartment, police mans' refused to touch him. They tried hard to get him down by his own but they cannot understand his pain also his language.
I know the language he spoke was certainly not Hindi, since I know Hindi, I mean if somebody talks in Hindi, I can identify that they spoke Hindi. To add, I know Malayalam too.
back to scene, It was too late for the train to start, so they gave up getting the old man down as soon as the train started and they got down. It was very, very, very awkward to sit in that compartment as the blood smelt drastically bad. I never smelt such an smell in my life time.
My head switched to vibration mode not only out of the smell but also out of the guilt that I disturbed the old man without knowing he was not well and calling police will make it worse, beauty some times make us guilt isn't it!
"Hey what happened!!", my friend inquired me after looking at me sitting with my hands holding my forehead and eyes closed. I couldn't even open my eyes to see the old man and his wound which continued bleeding. I'm not that bad to ignore somebody asking me help but he didn't ask anything but some place to rest.
Train stopped in the next station. An elderly guy got in and saw this old man who now trying to get back to his rest. As soon as the elderly guy went near to the old man peoples sitting next to me shouted to pull him out of the compartment. Even I had that in a corner of my mind, after all I am one among the rational animal. But I kept my moral and kept quiet. I turned from the old man and closed my eyes and nose.
Suddenly I heard slapping sound. When I turned back to see what the hell was happening! I saw the elderly guy trying to pull him down from the seat with few slaps. "OMG! This nasty guy is raising my guilt level" I thought and now its the old man's turn to raise my guilt level higher, yes, he caught the legs of the elderly guy and begging for some rest as he could not bare with the slap and the pain his wounded legs gave him. This turned the elderly guy soft and he announced "Please bare, I will get him down, next station"
He touched, lifted him up to the seat, god ! I could not do or at-least I could not stare at the wound for a minute which was badly damaged and bleeding. Thank God I didn't faint.
I asked my friend whether we can get down and go to the next compartment, which would help the old man to be left in peace from crowd or at-least would help me better to inhale some fresh air which I was stopping with my kerchief for a long time. My friend agreed and hearing the conversation everybody came to the same agreement and we all got down leaving that small partition of that compartment(first class) empty for that old man and got in to the next compartment.
After getting int, I want to put everything in text, somewhere as a record. I logged into facebook in my mobile and updated my status " just now I felt it, How tough its to be Mother Teresa". I didn't get better words to paraphrase my feel, guilt et cetra, et cetra..
Each one of them is Jesus in disguise. - Mother Teresa
Train reached my station, I got down and walked to first class to check the status of that old man who was sleeping in the peaceful compartment and walked with heavy heart, home. "Mother bless me, pardon me if it's a sin I committed"
Okies! I am done. Now, tell me Where is Teresa?
This blog confirms me of the hard truth that we are rattled in a word without mercy and humanity.Only thing each and every one of us are concerned is money money and money.
ReplyDeleteWell said.. Thanks for you time.
Delete