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REALITY BITES, INDEED. Naynesh M. Vora, Morbi February 8, 2003
Life, as it seems, is like a continuous flow of water in a stream. People pass through it, using their own experience, capacity and of course, tact. It is the inner-side of human beings that is important, how they act and react at different situations and try to solve their problems. Outwardly, people observe the movements of life, by measuring the moments gone by and future anticipation, the shape of life to come. Apparently, futurology comes to the rescue of such people. Seasons also help people to confirm that lots of time has elapsed in between yes and no, facts and figures, myths and realities.
When I read a cigarette company's advertisement, viz. "Live life King size", on a huge hoarding by the roadside in the morning walk, thoughts started crossing my mind. Perhaps, not many of us could have even understood, as to what exactly the caption meant. Neither life is King size, nor are we Kings. People as many of us live in a utopian state, whereas realities are obnoxious.
Season, during this period of time, is in the state of changeover, the early hours are bit colder, and so are the later hours of the evening. I have seen little children performing tricks to earn livelihood. A girl steadily and firmly crosses a rope, which is tied on support at two different ends, with a stick in her hands, to maintain the balance. Life is just like a rope, which has two extremes-life and death. What is important is to keep balance, and thereby pulling on.
It was a winter evening few days back, as I was passing through a street. I was shocked to see a father beating his son barely eight or ten years old. Initially, I assumed that the father must have been beating his kid in connection with his studies and that the kid might not have done homework properly. But what really hurt me a lot was the reason unfolded to me. The poor father was insisting that his son should work somewhere, on the tea-stall, lari-galla or so, and earn money for the family.
That night, I miserably failed to get asleep at my routine time. The face of that innocent child took hold of my eyes, and mind obviously perturbed. The child was looking at me, as if he was requesting me to persuade his father, so that he may continue his studies. The face of the child was full of light and eyes twinkling. Somewhere, the quest was trying to pour out of the mind- the thirst of knowledge.
Society, as a whole, is ambivalent to this problem, and that is why more and more children are forced to do labour, and then it becomes so difficult to get out from that clumsy ambience, where poverty rules the scene, and affects the tender childhood.
The society free of child labour is a matter of dream; could not it be a reality??
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