The Guilt of being Relatively Rich !

" Didi, aap ke paas favicol hai ? "

(Sister, do you have some fevicol ? )

I am sitting in my balcony this morning, with my armour set of books, pens, sheets revising my exam topics. My door opens to the road, separated by a few steps. Everyone here knows that I do mug up a lot of time, and will entertain no stupid gazing. So, sitting squatted like this is no big deal for me. Or for them.

Then came Soni. The girl who lives next door. Kid who is in Class 1. Studies in the local Govt school. Their house is the one you usually wouldn't expect to be in a posh locality. No gate surrounding the wall, kitchen in the balcony. No wonder people can't see them. They are the invisible mortals here.

I asked "Why? "

" It rained na yesterday, all my books got drenched. The cover bound has come off and my teacher will kill me in the class if she sees this. I asked mom for 5 rupees, she gave me a heavy thrashing. "

The crying session obviously began. So did my consoling session.

"Girls should never cry. Every problem has a solution. Give me your books"

I took up a cello tape and gave her battered books a chunk of life. I started flipping through her notes.

" Where is the Home work ? Your teacher doesn't teach anything ?"

" Hahaha, My teacher comes twice every week. Today, she might come. "

" But your hindi book is well written?"

"I like Hindi very much. English, I don't understand a bit. Teacher doesn't explain nicely"

"Why are you still talking to me? You are ready, now go to school !"

" No, I am not to go to school alone. My brother comes. He went to deliver the newspapers. I am waiting. Didi, what are these colour papers? "

"They are called stick-notes. You can add something in your notes while reading"

" But the book already has papers no, why are you sticking these, when those are not completely used? "

.......

" 2 X 1 = 3 ? This math book has disasters little girl. "

" I don't have a rubber "

" Lo. Take it. Share it with your classmates okay ? Tell me the address of your school. "

"Thanksssssss Didi "  And she zoomed to her brother, who was visible down the lane.

I remember how most of us cried for stickers on our books, which were carefully covered in brown paper/plastic sheets. My childhood friend used to collect erasers of different colors, smells, shapes. we had autos and school buses to attend the school.

Here lay, the future of India, not knowing why they go to school in the 1st place, as the only incentive is the Midday meal offered for lunch.

Poor Parents believe that sending to school will enlighten and better their lives. What exactly happens in the school is beyond their comprehension.

Yesterday, she came running to my room, knocking " Shall I bring you some milk? You go to that shop daily. You keep studying, I will go get it"

Laughing, we both went to the store, got some, shared a coffee. She asked me many questions ranging from why I have so many books in my room to what does a collector do ?

I explained her and then she says, " Quickly become a one. You can come to my school to donate a water filter and a good bathroom"

Sigh. Things out of quick action. I shall study hard. I shall thereby negate the guilt of being relatively rich.

By serving for those who are deprived of their rightful choice.

A beautiful childhood.


( Originally written at http://www.quora.com/Priyanka-Peeramsetty/Posts/The-Guilt-of-being-relatively-Rich?__snids__=648058627&__nsrc__=2&__filter__=priority  )