Wednesday, 25 December 2013

Playing Santa


Right Now 

Shanti was amazed. She opened the little note. It said " A gift from Santa". 
Neha walked down the street with a smile. A smile she felt that made her the most pretty girl in the world. A smile that came from her heart and glowed bright in her blue eyes.

A week before 

Neha felt a strange pulse of anticipation tingling down her spine. Would her wishes be truly granted? Will Santa visit her this time? Mumma had told her about Santa last week. She said he would come with gifts for good children like her. And the other day she saw Minnie - the girl in her favorite TV show - writing a letter to Santa, something she called a wish list. And you know what happened? Santa granted all her wishes. Now how could Neha resist herself from joting down her wishlist? She would sent it then to Santa, Neha resolved. 

The other day Neha saw a pretty doll in the big shop near her Papa's office. Though she wanted her Papa to get it for her he was too busy. Okay Neha thought, Santa would bring it for her then.

She also wanted a pair of shoes that she had seen Minnie wearing in the last episode. That would make her look a princess in the X'mas party. She was excited to the core at the thought of her looking like a princess. Mumma's friends would adore her. How she would love the envying glances of the other kids there! The mere thought brought to her ounces of joy!

She concluded her wish list by asking for a princess gown. She knew her Papa would buy one for her. Still if Santa could bring something better,
 won't that be awesome? 

Yesterday- The Christmas Eve

"Aah! The silly girl. Why can't she just tell me that she needs these stuff. Why this Santa drama? Oh my Lord! What all does these 8 year olds learn from the daily soaps?
Now let me see, the doll, shoes and a gown. Is that all she needs? And she believes that a Santa would bring these to her? Poor lass!  Anyway she is MY daughter, daughter of The Business tycoon Vikram Bajwa and she will get whatever she wants." He folded the paper into 4 and kept in back under Neha's pillow. He could imagine how happy she would be seeing the gifts tomorrow.

22nd December 

Neha tossed restlessly in the bed. She couldn't sleep. Shanti's words echoed in her mind. Neha couldn't even imagine life could be that sad. She was passing by the kitchen that day when she heard Shanti, her Nanny's daughter talking to the latter. Shanti didn't have toys like Neha had and they lived in a small house. Neha had once been there during Pooja festival. A very small house that smelt very bad. Shanti didn't have many toys. She always played with an old doll with tattered clothes and shabby hair. But Mumma said that was what God gave them. So Neha thought that would be okay as God couldn't do any wrong, Granny had taught her.But today Shanti was almost in tears. She was asking Nanny to get her a needle and a clothe piece to make a new dress for her doll. But Nanny refused. Nanny pacified Shanti saying that she would get them when she got her next month's salary. With red eyes, Shanti agreed. 
Neha didn't know why but Shanti's red eyes and the sad face wasn't getting off her mind. She ran her eyes through the innumerable toys she had displayed in her room.They were just everywhere. Big and small, soft and hard, with remotes and wires, quite a lot of them. But they were all old you know. Neha won't play with toys more than a month old. They would bring dust and allergy, Mumma said. But Neha couldn't let them go. They were her's and her's only. So it was her idea to keep them in her room. And then again Shanti's face popped up in her mind.


Christmas Day

Neha woke up to surprises. She was astonished to see the beautiful gifts wrapped up and kept on her bedside. Without losing a moment she pounced on it. But her heart didn't allow her to tear up the wrappers. She got dressed up and headed off to somewhere. She had only been there once and she knew Papa would be angry if he came to know of this expedition. But Neha knew this was important. Thank God her destination wasn't too far. She knocked on the wobbly door. Before anyone opened the door, she carefully kept the wrapped up gifts on the doorstep along with a little note and walked back home. Shanti opened the door to see a bounty she had never seen in her lifetime. 


....................................


Let us too play Santa's in our life and gift a poor child with a toy. Yes, it's no less than gifting them their childhood. :) Now take a glimpse of an NGO " Toybank" that works for the cause.

Activity: Toybank, a non-profit organization has been set up with the aim of providing toys to children who come from a weak socio-economic background.

Details: Goals: To ensure that children from under privileged backgrounds receive toys through collection and distributions. To bridge the gap between children from different backgrounds by creative play/group events/community events. To make play space available for children through-- Toy libraries in available infrastructures; reclaim open public spaces for children. To design and thus provide toys that will be context specific, by having toys made in local languages as well.
Support: Children, Right to Play, Right to Leisure, non-formal education, toys.

Note: We are looking for volunteer coordinators in Pune and Bangalore. We are looking for NGOs working on education of children in Delhi/NCR.

This post is a part of BlogAdda's Bloggers Social Responsibility (BSR) initiative. I am exercising my BSR. You can too with three simple steps. Visit http://www.blogadda.com/bsr/ and support the NGO's.

Saturday, 14 December 2013

Perspectives




 Cathy's perspective ....

"OMG! Not again." Cathy hissed to herself. She was getting late, terribly late and now it was going to be more trouble, all thanks to the non ending pool of vehicles that restlessly was honking to rush. Catherine, in short Cathy the busy bee was in a rush to reach her office. The young executive woman fed on her nails and literally was ruining the manicured art! She decided to let go her priced nails, to take a breath of fresh air and unrolled the window that shielded her from the world out. Street hawkers enticed by this act of hers, crowded near her car. She said no and no and no to all of them though with a smile. Ah! Saying no is a grace bestowed on her by her profession. Her eyes ran through the narrow space between the packed traffic. All she saw were busy faces, irritated and desperate. Motorcyclists dotting on chances to creep through somehow. The sun was setting and seemed to bid bye with tears. A rain would follow, she felt. "Didi ..." Cathy turned to see a puny, messy boy in tattered trousers. He held to her a bunch of flowers. "Didi ... Good Phool ... Only 40." He said to her in a broken dialect. The scent of the vivid flowers starkly contrasted the persona of the little marketing expert. As in a trance, her hands went for her purse, her eyes still fixed on the little boy. He was writing something on the dust laden backseat of a bike that stood near to him. She was reminded of her own childhood. The days of obscure freedom and happiness. Cathy too had loved writing on dust laden glasses of the vehicles that visited her house. She drew a picture of a small girl smiling and wrote "Cathy" alongside and believed that this would be a gift to the owners and they would remember her forever through this autograph of hers. A smile lingered through her lips and glowed in her eyes. She handed over 2 crisp 20 rupee notes to him. The boy almost snatched from her hands the money and ran through the gaps to where she din't know. Curiosity aroused in her to get a glimpse of what he had wrote on the bike. Maybe she can find his name in it. She peeped out and  "40" was all what she saw. Her smile faded. 


 Little marketer's perspective


Another traffic jam. Thank God. Maybe some one will buy these flowers and I'll get some money. All those windows I knock on, why don't they even bother to open those glasses? Do I appear a pest to them! The sun's setting and it would be dark soon. And Maai's alone at home. I need to rush. Please will some one atleast take a look at these flowers? None knows the pain I took to steal these flowers from Mrs.Ganguly's garden. How I ran from there .... Will all my effort go wasted? Maai always says stealing is bad. But what else could I do? None bothered to lend me money, though I begged hard their mercy. Cruel people. Maai says bad people goes to hell .... Will I go there too? But .. Maai needed medicines. She isn't well. She is too ill. Ah! There is a Didi. Maybe she'll buy these flowers. Good lord why is she staring at me like this? Am I nothing more than a pest? Can't she just pay instead of smiling strangely at me! What is going on! Ah ... 40 Rupees . That can pay for all medicines.  With overwhelming happiness I drew a 4 and a 0 that I saw in the Tonic bottle that the shopkeeper showed when I asked for the medicine. Now Maai will become alright and she would sing lullaby for me as she always used to do. Finally I got the money in my hands. And here I come Maai.