Meera
Meera looked into the morbid darkness ahead of her. All she had known for the last few nights was heat and dust and mosquitoes The streets of Chennai were cruel in the summer, and ever since she had been forced to move into her small lodging to find odd jobs to support her aging mother, life had been a struggle. She watched a middle-aged man speed by on his bike. Ah, if only she could even afford a bike, she thought. If she had that kind of money, life wouldn't be as much of a struggle, surely?
Raj
As Raj slowly made his way through the small alleys of Mylapore, he passed a young girl trudging through in the dead of night. Normally, he would have been concerned, and would have even offered to drop her at her destination. Today was different though. His wife, who had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer a few months ago, had not shown any response to the six sessions of chemo-therapy that she had received so far. Her condition had reached a critical point, for which he had to quit his job to be able to take her to the hospital if any emergency arose. He felt weighed down with troubles, with responsibility- how was he to manage even basic survival, now that expenses needed to be dug out of his savings? What about his kid's education? He couldn't help but feel that everything he had ever worked for was slowly crumbling down in front of his eyes, and there was nothing that he could do about it. At the traffic light, he peered into a Mercedes car and glanced at the suit-clad man inside. Maybe life would be much easier, more problem free, with that much money at your disposal?
Sathya
Sathya had to hold back his tears as he sat at the backseat of his chaffeur-driven car, on his way back from a late night at work. Not that anything really mattered to him, at the moment- in terms of work, that is. His sixteen-year old son had just committed suicide. So this is what it feels like, when they say that the worst thing that can happen is to lose your child, he thought. More than anything, more than even the death, he felt responsible Had he not been a good father? Had he not given his son everything, been there for him when he needed help? What had gone wrong? What had he hated so much about his life that he had ended it? So many questions, not a single answer- not even a note.
I watched from the outside as all three people struggled with what life had handed them. I watched as they watched their lives fall apart. I watched, and all I wanted to do was hold them and say that this is unfair, and that life will offer them something more, something better, and maybe the best thing of all- hope.
Meera looked into the morbid darkness ahead of her. All she had known for the last few nights was heat and dust and mosquitoes The streets of Chennai were cruel in the summer, and ever since she had been forced to move into her small lodging to find odd jobs to support her aging mother, life had been a struggle. She watched a middle-aged man speed by on his bike. Ah, if only she could even afford a bike, she thought. If she had that kind of money, life wouldn't be as much of a struggle, surely?
Raj
As Raj slowly made his way through the small alleys of Mylapore, he passed a young girl trudging through in the dead of night. Normally, he would have been concerned, and would have even offered to drop her at her destination. Today was different though. His wife, who had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer a few months ago, had not shown any response to the six sessions of chemo-therapy that she had received so far. Her condition had reached a critical point, for which he had to quit his job to be able to take her to the hospital if any emergency arose. He felt weighed down with troubles, with responsibility- how was he to manage even basic survival, now that expenses needed to be dug out of his savings? What about his kid's education? He couldn't help but feel that everything he had ever worked for was slowly crumbling down in front of his eyes, and there was nothing that he could do about it. At the traffic light, he peered into a Mercedes car and glanced at the suit-clad man inside. Maybe life would be much easier, more problem free, with that much money at your disposal?
Sathya
Sathya had to hold back his tears as he sat at the backseat of his chaffeur-driven car, on his way back from a late night at work. Not that anything really mattered to him, at the moment- in terms of work, that is. His sixteen-year old son had just committed suicide. So this is what it feels like, when they say that the worst thing that can happen is to lose your child, he thought. More than anything, more than even the death, he felt responsible Had he not been a good father? Had he not given his son everything, been there for him when he needed help? What had gone wrong? What had he hated so much about his life that he had ended it? So many questions, not a single answer- not even a note.
I watched from the outside as all three people struggled with what life had handed them. I watched as they watched their lives fall apart. I watched, and all I wanted to do was hold them and say that this is unfair, and that life will offer them something more, something better, and maybe the best thing of all- hope.
