An Omniscient Sleep

Mar 17, 2012 by     1 Comment     Posted under: Non-Fiction

Me and my fellows, with sacks on back, sweating backs and exhausted minds walked on the  street  for almost an hour with no success. After a mighty walk, ultimately, we found a Garbage house. Our gloomy faces got a glow by watching a paradise of messes. “Grab it”, roared Sammi, who rushed into it, followed by me and Abdullah. Everyone, with his sacks started opting for the stuff that was productive for him. After rummaging for around half an-hour, we resumed our journey to the horizon.

With penny-less pockets and empty-stomachs, we realized it was lunch time. Sammi came up with an idea of going to a house two blocks away, where a lady had given him bread two days ago.

Sammi went there, the same lady came-up, providing him with bread and a glass of water. Watching his successful attempt, we went with Sammi, expecting to get water and bread. But the same lady came out, refusing and rather rudely shouted, “Share it”.

All three of us had to share bread and that one glass of water – we could feel the pain of hunger; that wasn’t just the hunger, but, the scorching sunlight, thirsty throats, weary brains and dry lips. “I can’t walk further”, said Abdullah, who was just seven. We decided to search for lunch ourselves, giving the poor boy some rest.

After the refusal from the first house, when we rang the bell to the next, an old man came out, looking at us, he gestured as if he knew what we were looking for. We could see him, saying something to the person at his back. Soon he threw a shopper bag at us; we rushed to it, grabbing it, with hearts pounding with excitement. We could feel its weight, it seemed heavily loaded, but, the knot was tight enough, making it difficult for us to un-knot the covered stuff.

Out of our surging-hunger and ultimate-exhaustion, we opted to shred it with our both hands, expecting to find something eatable. All the excitement vanished, when we saw something apparently like bread, but gave the feeling of a metallic-sheet. With depressed faces and misty-eyes, we sat down. We couldn’t face each other due the guilty-conscience of failure to arrange something for little Abdullah.

I sat in tears on my knees. When I looked up, there was no one beside me, I was all alone. Recovering myself, I began to seek everywhere for Sammi. After an unsuccessful search, I came back as I couldn’t gather enough strength to look for my elder brother Sammi, owing to the scorching temperature. Five minutes later, I saw Sammi returning from somewhere with a glass of water in one hand. I knew it was for Abdullah, the poor kid, who must be waiting for us, with his innocent scaly-lips. The desperate concern for Abdullah gave me an imperishable sturdiness and strengthened me to reach Abdullah.

Approaching Abdullah, when I looked at cathartic image right in front, all the aspiration I had been regained somehow, perished like dew. My younger brother was lying unconscious, with his head on a piece of rock with the evil sun shining right on his face. His little and scaly tongue jumping off his mouth. We knew it was the cruel temperature and killing thirst, that got him unconscious. Grabbing the glass of water, I started planking the water on his face, with two words on my lips “Wake-up Abdullah”, ”Wake-up Abdullah”, “wake-up son”, “wake-up Abdullah”, ”wake-up son”.

While waking him, I could hear simultaneously, “Wake-up son”, I said “wake-up Abdullah”, the shout got louder, “wake-up son, you are getting late”. I felt water on my face that jolted me awake.

The next moment I shouted, “wake-up Abdullah”

“Abdullah is already in washroom”, replied mom with astonishment.

I asked, “Where is Sammi?”

“He is in kitchen. What happened to you? You must have had a nightmare!”

In our daily lives, we never think about the unfortunate people around us. In our luxurious lives, we do not value the basic facilities the poor people are deprived of. It was only one Abdullah who died, though fictitious, we never know how many similar Abdullah die every day due to starvation.

The Author

To be an Economist.

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1 Comment + Add Comment

  • Very well written. There is a point when we start taking everything for granted and just forget that there are those who are not like us and it could have been us instead of them.

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