Sunday, July 22, 2012

Can you hear me?

Big city people are vociferous against child labour, yet unusually blind to it. When I bring you a glass of tea on the roadside, wipe the tables and clean the utensils, how come I miss your vision without fail?
Years ago, Mohan, our gardener, had kidnapped me from my home on the hills. Grandpa trusted him with not only the garden but also my safety, because I would be running around the garden. My parents used to work in the tea gardens – they returned at the fag end of the day.

Mohan took advantage of their absence and your age, Grandpa. On a day when clouds descended in a gentle mist, he slipped out with me on his shoulders... away from you, my family, my roots!!
I am here, Grandpa. Send Papa, please. Tell him to punish all Mohans who rob kids of their childhood. I don’t want to be “Chhotu”.. I am your naughty little brat!!

Child labour is rising at an alarming rate, friends. Its time we join hands against it.

This post is part of the contest A picture can say a thousand words.. on