Its all so doomed

We use to play football near a friends place at night. We would start around 10 and finish in a couple of hours. It was followed by another hour of just hanging around in the park.



On one of many nights like these we reached the park around 930. We were starting to gear up for a good match of football and not far from us I saw a man taking seat on the sidewalk with who I suppose was his son. I was all set to play but waiting for others I was just observing the man and his son. The guy sat with his son on the pavement and started talking. After a minute he stood up and said a few more things. Looked like he was leaving the boy there telling him that he will return in a few minutes.  So he vanished into the dark streets and we also got busy playing football.



My mind was fixed on the boy and my eyes would search for him every two minutes. We took a break and the boy was still there, sitting all alone waiting for his dad. 930 became 10 became 11 and we finished playing around 1115 or so. He was sobbing now. Big hopeful eyes which were now filled with tears were looking everywhere. All he could see was darkness within the darkness of the streets. One would think that we could have helped him. As much as I wanted to, I hoped his dad would come. I really wished for it. Sometimes what happens is that you tend to believe what you wish for. In your head it becomes a fact and you are confident of it. Sort of convincing yourself and moving on. You tell yourself, “it will happen”, but honestly you don’t know but you are just wishing for it all the more. Some might say it’s a way to run away from the effort you could have made. But I was just observing the boy, and that is all I could do. I had convinced myself that his dad will come back to pick him up. We were to leave soon. I was looking at him. He was probably just 5-6 years old. He could not have done anything wrong in the 5 years of his life. So why is he suffering. I will never know what happened to him. His father came back or not is still a question but the more I see of this world, it makes me believe that he did not. There is so much suffering around us. It makes me wonder that who decides all this. Who decided that a 5 yr old is to suffer and 23 yr old is to write about it. If it come to past life deeds, than who decides what is wrong and what is right. I read this somewhere – “There is no wrong and there is no right. There are only interpretations.” I don’t know if it holds true or not. But I have questions for the one who decided this sort of a future for that boy. No place to go tomorrow, no one to talk to. He might just end up begging on some street corner.



Times like these i wish there was a higher authority you know. Like higher than humans. Who we can speak to anytime and ask questions and argue and scream in front of. Ask for explainations. U might think that this guy is talking so much, if he really means all of this why did he not take the boy home or helped him in any sort. I have no reasons for not doing what maybe i should have. There are no explanations. These situations i think have a mesmerizing affect on us. You can think a lot but you freeze. There is no action. And the one who acts, is a hero. Most of us like myself, just stand there, wishing, thinking hard but no action. Later on we hate ourselves for not doing what we were thinking. It is just so human.