Every Sunday afternoon after a great variety meal, we sit to watch our favorite channels in the television, some getting us entertained and some getting us informed of what’s happening around. As we keep scrolling up and down the end product of laziness or of the so called advancement of science, the remote control, we get stuck ourselves to our new cozy sofa, sometimes with even dozing heads pretending to watch but listen. On one such afternoon in one of the TV channels, was a headline issue followed by its details as to be happening in Japan.
- A new born being taken care by a home for orphans, unclaimed by both his official parents and his surrogate mother. The surrogate mother, having no claims by law is obviously not considerate. But it’s painful to notice that the couple, who had been so much desperate to have a child, who had gone to an extent of any how getting one by fixing a surrogate mother, is now so indifferent in claiming him as their child or as the child of anyone of them after a divorce. What does the new born has to do with their divorce?
When this strikes hard in our heart, do we only think of one such child in this world? Our thoughts wander around thousand such children left unclaimed, left with unidentified belonging in several such orphanages. Are we not guilty of not doing anything about it? It’s reasonable if the youth community says it’s not practical to take up one such responsibility on their heads, when they themselves are thriving hard to find their identity in the society (There are of course strict laws that prohibit young couple from adopting children unless they have a valid reason to do so. Also one should have sound financial back up to get one home). But what can be opinionated on rich, old people who seem to be calling themselves as great souls to have accomplished all their responsibilities in an exemplary manner towards their family. Having done all this that’s needful for their grandchildren, aren’t they guilty of sitting with the newspaper and on phone with friends and family to pass the last few years of their lives? Will the old think? Every drop makes an ocean. Even a minute thought about this will make a huge impact.
Beetle bites on a fresh blossom
Of crystal pink and a smile awesome
How can the nature be so gruesome?
To leave him in grab of a deadly spasm.
A bud that has come out of sadistic root
Or a seed that has formed in an eaten fruit
A boon that’s uncared by unkind divorce
Or a god who has escaped a family curse.
He sleeps with his cotton like fingers on hold
To the rods of the orphanage cradle, it’s cold
Whenever he wakes for his hunger and heed
In his eyes, is a thirst for his mom didn’t feed.
Ten billion kids on parental care
He is alone as a deserted heir
No directions fall on his lonely path
Only swampy love can set him in froth.
The rest of the blooms get some water
Has he been born to starve and wither?
If fate can be wild and act so perverse
Hands can be fair to help him traverse.
Why won’t he love his couch to be swung?
What should he care if lullabies are sung?
Why won’t the doors of the kind open?
And let him live life as no orphan.