Kunal's Helicopter

He might probably be one of the most uninteresting topics for most of you. But kunal, unintentionally has become an important part of my life. Kunal, a five year old street kid who lives at the doorstep of my college. Just like any other unnoticed kid on the streets he lives his life carefree of the troubles of the world. His life is not disturbed by the periodic change of political parties, of inflation, of having to live a life in a world so competitive. All that matters to him are the three meals of his day.

The first time I met Kunal was about a year back. Wearing a pair of over sized shorts which were forced to fit him by a tattered rope. With his fragile little hands he handed over to me an empty bottle saying "Didi, thanda paani bhar ke do na (Please fill this with cold water)." And the moment I filled the bottle and gave it back to him I heard him saying something which totally surprised me.

"Thank you didi"

Thank you?? It had been ages since I even heard that. Even in the civilised world we live in! There was something about that kid that always made me fond of him. Was it his manners? Was it his innocence? Was it his ability to smile even in the life that he lived while I whined with all that I have? Or maybe, it was just him as a person on the whole. Kunal on the whole is a lovely kid. Much civilized than the rich brats I see who throw tantrums for everything to be more than one.

It was yesterday after going on a shopping spree, I entered a gift shop to but somethings i needed. Kunal was sitting outside the shop, still wearing that smile which even now amuses me, asking all the passer by's to buy him a helicopter toy. As soon as he saw me, his face gleamed with a ray of hope, that the didi who always filled him a bottle of cold water may also fill his bare hands with a glossy toy. For a moment I even looked at the price tag. It was for Rs.1000. I sure as hell couldn't afford that for him. And though I tried to tell him that it is expensive and I wouldn't be able to get it for him, he just didn't understand. In vain, I ignored his call and walked away.

On one side, though it might seem good enough for him to be kept away from politics, from inflation, from the worries of living in a competetive world, doesn't it become his right to be involved in all of this? Why is it that some of us get to go to college and bunk classes just to have fun while all that he can ever do is press his face up the windows and look into the empty classrooms? Why is it that some of us sit and whine at what all we missed on while he hasn't even had the privilege of counting what he has? Is it fair? Who is responsible for this child's cry? Who can hear it?

While as of now, all I can do is blog about it, I hope someday Kunal grows up and gets his own glossy helicopter to fly above the world.