A very special girl died this Nov, putting an end to her suffering of many months that was not letting her live, nor allowed her to die. She was suffering from a disease that had become incurable. At last, she decided to put an end to her suffering.The saddest part is that she refused treatment and chose to suffer silently, alone.She was brave nevertheless, but her heart gave in at last.
So many young people die every year.She was also one of them.What was special about her?She was a representative of all that is pure,innocent,good and worth respecting in human beings. She was born with a physical deformity-part of her palm was absent in her since her birth.She was a bit sensitive about it and tried to do everything normally in order to prove to the world that she was not to be pitied. She hated being pitied. Once when some one told her something about her deformed hand, she was so hurt that that very moment she left her job and everything in Bangalore and just got into a train without knowing where she was going.
She did things beautifully. In her presence, the house remained neat and clean. She had good taste. Seeing her moving around on a cycle was a joy.She was thin like a stick, but her soul contained a sea of love for all the people she knew.When she completed her MBA, parents suggested her to produce a certificate meant for the physically handicapped and get a good job in Orissa.But she refused to do so and got her first job competing in the job market.
We all know that we all will die one day.But when young people of worth die, the society loses a member with some possibility. And when good people die, the earth is short of the positive forces they carried with them.Death often comes untimely and snatches away good souls who enriched our life and the society. We think, may be we could have done something to save their lives. We repeat the cliche' may be God loved them and wanted their company, but the loss is never made up for.We grieve the loss and ask the question- why good people only? But there is no answer to it. Life and death are enigmas nobody has ever been able to solve. Untimely deaths of good people teach us things that we should be careful and try all the possibilities of saving a life, avoiding dangerous living and remain good so that when we go people
would remember us for our goodness.That's a hard task though.
It’s a familiar sight in English medium public schools to see the parents running from here to there and from this teacher to that teacher, with complaints about the marks of there ward whenever they are shown the test or the examination papers.Sometimes they complain that the teacher would have been more lenient, sometimes they grieve that the questions were hard. At times they even complain about the question pattern being wrong or the marking patter being erratic. Nowadays we almost don’t see a parent grieving about his or her child not putting in more efforts or not being very studious though there are exceptions.The teachers are invariably at the receiving end for one fault of theirs or another.
Earlier, the teachers had great expectations from students and the students and the parents together tried their level best to live up to those expectations. Imperfections were accepted with self remorse and more efforts were put in, to fill in the gaps. Nowadays, neither the children nor the parents bother too much about how much knowledge is being assimilated. All that they worry about is marks. Marks obtained by unfair means are also accepted without scruples. If we analyze the reason behind it, it’s a very simple psychological truth underlying such fanaticism regarding marks. The world loves achievers and the losers are not forgiven. Nobody notices a non-achiever. Parents love to tell to the world that their children are achievers. It is sad to see that old idealism are losing their value. Maxims like a tree loaded with fruit always bending downward which meant that a knowledgeable person is always humble, unassuming and quiet about his achievement does not hold value in the modern world. Here one has to be successful by any means and people don’t take notice of you unless you blow your own trumpet or shout from the roof top. Even the card of smallest value has to be flaunted ostentatiously.
Goodness and idealism are passe. Tact and saleability are the law of life today and children are the worst victims of high expectations.
Children are like wet clay. The responsibility of carving out an angel or a devil rests primarily on the parents and then, the teachers. If good values are put into them and they are taught to differentiate between good and bad and the transient and the permanent, they would learn to exercise their judgment and assess a situation according to its true merit and not merely for selfish interests. If they are taught things which will last them a life time, they would grow into good and responsible human beings and sincere members of the society. That can only happen, if the elders themselves are evolved human beings. All of us know that life has been turned into a fast-paced rat race and all are struggling to carve out their own place. The means we assume to reach our ends are important. If the means are wrong, the success achieved may be very short-lived, but if we keep our means clean, we may not have to regret later.
The truly educated parents should keep in mind that success may not be an all-time companion, but knowledge is. It never shuns us. Hence, instead of running after marks or regarding them as the hallmarks of success, efforts should be made to raise successful and good human beings who can grant us relief from the spiral of unethical expectations and help us to have faith in our basic goodness.
When the first batch of earthen lamps and candles
Got into their places on walls, terraces
And window panes,
Aunty came with her
Eight-month old grandson clinging to her body,
her white hair unkempt and flying.
The little boy looked around with his round black eyes,
His familiarity with stranger speaking of
His acceptance of a truth,
That mom was not going to be around very soon,
May be for two, three years,
She had a job,
and no time to look after a baby.
Candles or lamps could not remove
The darkness that overhung so many trees
And hills,
But they brought light anyway,
They lit up the hearts of the people
Who remained cooped up
In their matchbox houses after dark
And often forgot the world of the living,
Voices and laughter emerged from the caves
For chosen moments
And accepted life,
The candles and earthen lamps burned,
Shone in the darkness like little beacons,
And died away,
Their death was not lamented,
Nor any effort was made for resurrection,
Coops were reoccupied.
The ritual had been done.
The day’s promise was kept.
