Poverty is a subject that is often touched upon in our group sessions. Touched upon….I realize how revealing that particular turn of phrase is. We try to go deeper into the mechanics of equal distribution of wealth, micro-economics, various schemes; some practical suggestions are exchanged, but we are uneasy, about something. None of us are ready to speak of how the experience of observing the harsh ugly reality of dire neediness affects us personally. This “unease” has stayed with me for sometime, but I have been unable to speak of it. So I ignore it. There are so many other things to think of.
Last month, a very sophisticated mall was inaugurated by a well known starlet. She gushed about how delighted she was, to now have a Rolls Royce showroom to visit. Today I glanced through an Indian magazine which advertised wrist watches costing 7 lakhs plus, and cute little handbags at only a lakh. And suddenly something I had seen last month came back very, very sharply.
I was travelling by a local train to VT, and it had stopped under a bridge; I looked out of the window, and saw this slim young man sitting on a broad shady ledge. He had a toddler in his arms, who was gurgling with delight. A pretty scene, till I saw the blind anguished look in hi s eyes. He looked so desperate, I wondered if he was contemplating suicide.
There was no way I could help, and then I saw a movement on the space behind him on the ledge. There was a girl sleeping, covered with a strip of sacking. The slim outflung arm ,with some cheap plastic bangles suggested someone very young. And the movements under the frail cover provided by the sacking told a horror story of its own. I don’t know what I felt…pity, horror, helplessness. I turned away and found myself looking straight at the young man. I don’t know what he saw in my face, but in his eyes I saw terrifying misery and shame. He held my glance for a long moment then shuddered and buried his face in the toddler’s little shoulder. The train moved on. What could I do? What can any of us do?