Children of The Night

All that they know, they have learnt on the street. No magic carpet, no genie,no shoes on their feet. Will they wake up from this nightmare? A fear that chills them to their bone, they feel all alone. They are the children of the night. Though they won’t go down without a fight. If our voice is strong, their future is bright. But alas, thanks to what they have learnt from us, they have grown into “children of the night”. Left by their fathers with only a scar on their face, told by their mother that “no you were just a mistake”. They have tested their own hunger, told their body to survive. Yes, you have got me right, I am speaking about the rag picker children, children begging in the streets, children neglected by their parents, children victims of trafficking and children victims of various calamities.

Don’t get surprised if I tell you that there are about 5 lakh such children in Delhi alone who need care and protection. Out of these about 1 lakh are expected to be living on streets and railway platforms. Some of these children are those who run towards our cars on the traffic signal to sell their Bisleri bottles.

Sure the little angels surfaces may be scorched and bruised but we need to touch what’s inside after all they also have dreams to play with toys and want their childhood to be full of fun and laughter, just like your tiny tots. But life for them is different, it’s a test, but one thing I am sure of is, after the long test is over they are bound to go to heaven, for they will be through with their share of hell on earth.

Sitting in an ac room, watching the cricket match on the flat screen TV, waiting for the clock to strike 10 when we will get up to get into our sedan and drive to a restaurant to have our dinner. Still many of us fret about not having it “all”. But have we ever in our daily lives spared a thought about the children who have the blazing sun on their head, on the hottest day of the year, for whom cricket is something played by “baboo logon ke bete”, for whom dinner is a luxury which they can only have once in the blue moon, that too if they skip their lunch. These children whom I address as “children of the night” often get unnoticed by our eyes. All that they know they have learnt from the streets.