The Winding Lane

[email protected] (Amrita Suvarna)
August 28, 2012
A frolicking, high spirited young girl she was, never losing an opportunity to admire even the smallest of things, be it the silvery wings of an insect, the dew drops on a newly awakened bud or the mighty gaze of the sun from the heavens above! Admiration always aglow in her eyes, this young one went about with life learning about everything – being a keen one that she was!

windinglane

Under the watchful and loving eyes of two people she called her parents, she grew... Grew from being wide eyed, open mouthed to being amongst toddlers her age, her mind always thinking about the things she saw around her. She had not a worry in the world (unless, of course, someone happened to move her box of crayons out of her sight - or something of the like- but then again I shouldn’t be offending the young one, a worry is a worry after all!). On she sprouted into a pretty teenager (the age we are so fond of) under the influence of Time (as all of us are), when our little one decided to take a stroll down a lane she had never set foot on before (you do know how curious she is!). Long and winding it appeared to her sparkly eyes, but something told her to move on, and so she did.

Greeting her eyes were the scenes of loving families which would gain approving eyes of many (even a longing or an envious glare or two from the unfortunate) and her adolescent friends playing a game of football in the fields yonder. Nothing escaped her observant eye and as she saw a temple, mosque and a church, all within the vicinity of one another, contentment levels rose within her.

But every coin has two faces.

As she walked down the lane, a sudden movement at the extreme end of her field of vision caused her to move her head to its direction, causing her to witness-

“A fight, a fight!” someone next to her exclaimed, and everyone ducked out of the way. Many minutes later, an ambulance is heard and whisks off somebody whose head is covered entirely in blood. Distressed, she walked on and the events don’t just stop there. Huddled people with all sorts of powders and needles is what she saw along with an assortment of bottles to a side. Further, she heard the shriek of a baby lying abandoned in a ditch and saw the shadow of two people slinking away into the darkness; the wailing of the poor who can afford absolutely nothing, the groans of those who were crippled or had deformities; the muffled sniffs of the helpless mother who sold her little one, so that a meal could be eaten... and received the menacing glare from the buyers as if to say, “Keep quiet, or else..”

Tears welled up in the eyes of our protagonist and she thought, “Why is the state of affairs so bad? Communal fights being rampant everywhere, strewing families apart, violence being as rhythmic as the sun that rises every day! Where are we heading?! Poverty has raised its evil head and caused desperation to such an extent that children are sold!”

A part of her had woken up. Woken up to create a change. To create a sense of awareness, sympathy. A change which could also be created from within – our mind. A dear friend had once told me, “Those who look outside dream and those who look inside awaken!” She thought, “What harm is it to deflect those negative thoughts in our mind which cause us to act like lunatics and replace it by a simple positive one? Sounds impossible? I don’t think so. It’s pretty achievable!

Make a difference to yourselves, in turn, your making this world a better place.

Together, we can.


Will you?”


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