The plight of poverty

The sparrow on the lowest branch of the tree chirped on seeing the dawn break into the sky casting bright rays of refreshing light. It was a chill morning, leaves embedded with diamond like dew drops, a very few people on the run and many snoring comfortably in their matresses. Rajan was one among the busy folks who was on his heels, delivering newspapers to each and every house in town. He was in bed with a high degree of fever last night, but as morning approached , he had no other go but to be up and about to earn something for the day. He sent his little sister to school and came back to work in the mechanic shed nearby for a few hours and then rush to school himself.He never seemed to mind about his ragged clothes and torn pair of sandals, he selflessly worked day and night only for his sister to live comfortably.

Rajan was only 13 years old, but his level of capability and acceptance towards life was immense, every person in town had admired him in some way or the other. He learnt to cook simple food from the house wives and learnt to work effectively, thus by saving time from the people he worked for. He also excelled in academics thus, by gaining the admiration of his teachers. That day was Rajan's school's annual day and he was about to recieve a prize for his exceptionally good work in academics.

He cheerfully delivered the news papers and rushed to the shed in order to pull an early shift and reach the school soon. As he hurriedly worked in his shed, pulling out the screws from the dusty wheels, removing the problematic silencers from the bikes and filling in punctured tyres with air, quite pleased with his job, Balan, the owner of the mechanic shed told him that he had done enough for the day and handed him a hundred rupee note and told him to return the next day.

He recieved the note with a smile on his face and rushed back home to change his dirty clothes and wear the fresh ones he had laundered at home. But on reaching home, he found his home ransacked, his tiny savings stolen, many rice grains shattered and his whole house looted. His sister was crouched in one corner with bloodied hands on her face and weeping sorrowfully about the plight she had to face. On seeing the house being looted, she had tried to defend their things, but alas, the theives had struck her head with a huge wooden stick and made their way with all her belongings. She slowly lost control of herself and dropped to the floor, blood surging from her skull.

He rushed her to the nearby hospital, but on seeing her, the doctors nodded their heads in hopelessness. She could not be saved as it was too late. Rajan knelt down to the hard floor and shed tears full of deep sorrow, after the incident had taken place, he had never returned to the town, to home or to school or to the weary shed.