For my Love!

I see her on some nights,

Those fateful nights,

Feeding cats in her balcony.

I'm tempted to make my presence felt.

And I do.

And she notices.

I stare.

Flashes of those 15years pass by, just pass by.

For a moment, I think, she looked at me too.

Smiled, maybe.

I don't know if she knows what I feel,

Or maybe she feels the same too.

Will it ever be alright, I wonder.

And with that thought,

Amen!

Hey! I'm adopted!

Chumki's favorite pass time is to irritate me. This is something she aces. No matter how hard I try, I can't ignore her for long (You'll know exactly why if you know either of us well). And she is very creative when it comes to ways of irritating me.

So this time she came up with this whole story of how and why I was adopted (No I haven't been adopted. I am my parents child, but Chumki has a different story altogether!) This is what it goes like (explanation being given to R, in front of Ma):

"I am the first child, so obviously I was extremely pampered. Ma and Papa gave me so much that I got bored of everything (which includes all my toys, friends, books, etc etc). So they obviously wanted to get something that could entertain me for sometime at least. That's when they got her (i.e. Mishika) so that I wouldn't get bored. But later they got attached and adopted her."

Amusing!!

P.S. I have heard so many of these "how-and-why-I-was-adopted" stories that I don't even believe them anymore (initially I did :p).

Plus I resemble my family members way too much to buy that I am adopted.

Hard luck Chumki!!

STREET PERFORMERS

ISS RASTEY PAR!!
When asked to imagine children between the age-group of 3 to 10 yrs, the image that crosses our minds is that of robust and healthy children bubbling with energy in their carefree lives, without any tensions of the outside world. But there exists reality outside out imagination, which we all are aware of but hardly pay any attention to.
Welcome to the world of Street Performers!! While on one hand we crib about being stuck in traffic jams and caught up on traffic lights in our air-conditioned cars, there are those on the other hand whose daily breads depends on there sessions. Dozens of children armed with miniature dholes and sticks flock Siri Fort crossing right from 10 in the morning till 5 in the evening, displaying their ‘talents’ in front of any interested onlooker. They come from as far as Patel Nagar and commute using buses and local trains. They have been in this business for the past 4-5 years, although they themselves are just 7-8 yrs old!
Kalpana(3yrs) and Chand (7yrs) have grown up to follow the footsteps of their elder brothers and accompany them each day to work. Originally inhabitants of Bilaspur in Chhattisgarh, they have migrated to Delhi and resumed life at a pace different from that of their parents, who work as farmers back in the villages. They are not concerned with education and studies never interested them, although these opportunities are not denied to them. “Mera chhota bhai Arjun 4 saal ka hai. Woh gaaon mei padh raha hai” (my younger brother Arjun, 4 years old, is studying in the village.)- informs Sajju, an 8year old who knows nothing except of performing on streets and enjoys the freedom he gets in this ‘profession’. In their growing up years when children need maximum nourishment, these kids survive on a packet of fruits that they carry with them each day. The money that they earn (roughly Rs.100 to Rs.150 per day is the combined earning) goes mainly into sustaining them and purchasing food.
They are often chased by policemen to vacate the place, but they resume their work as soon as the uniformed men are out of vicinity. On one occasion, several of them had been kept in the police station for a whole day but were released in the evening, without any demand for money.
These children do this without even thinking about it. Performing on streets comes as naturally to them as breathing. This is their way of life, and this is their childhood- lost according to us, new found according to them!
Compiled By:
Mishika Singh and Ishita Dasgupta