~ A Ragpicker's Saga...~

She sits on the pavement and watches the world move; she is also amongst us but with a different tone attuned to life of misery and no pelf. Her appearance of dilapidation surely gives a thought about the quality of life she is living. She was along sitting near a closed shop, the dark night with twinkling stars had just ended and dawn was on its way. The moonlight was showcasing its presence and all I could see was a frail woman meekly sipping a cup of tea which a street hawker had just made for her as a first customer. From the appearance, she looked like a ragpicker – a fact which was later proved when I saw the huge white sack lying next to her.

She had one faithful companion – a street dog, who seems to be sitting with her and occasionally used to jump over her – quite unlike a behavior which these canines portray on seeing such a diluted figure. She was quite mindful of her presence and frequently was looking here and there as if she was afraid of someone. Then suddenly she had an eye-to-eye contact with me as I was watching her closely for a few minutes gone-by. I was also on my morning halt (it was pristine early morning with clock ticking its way through 5:00 a.m.) and was basking in its midst of silence and clean air – I could smell the newness of the air I was inhaling.

After a few minutes, the lady started to wave hands and started to call in her own regional dialects – I mistook it to be a call for myself but suddenly was stopped of being stupefied when I saw her pals – a group of 4-5 street urchins with their white garbage bags approaching and hugging her lovingly. The laugh was all that was that captivated my eyes and my senses. It seems to me that she was being greeted by her familial ties – I rightly assumed that she was mother of 3 small kids – all of age between 10 to 12 years who have been pushed into penury by their life circumstances and were accorded this task. What I was missing was the presence of her husband, though I could closely observe the vermillion on her forehead – a visible sign of married woman in India.

As the family met, I could see the gala event – they all seemed to have forgotten their circumstances and started to peep and look into each other sacks, as if they were expecting gold out of it or the morning prized catch.  How beautiful that small incidence was, the kids started to play amongst themselves quite unmindful of the fact of being looked by me and alike! They seem to be living in perfect harmony of family sans the big and costly toys that their mother could not have afforded – leave alone going to a school, a basic human right ingrained in our constitution!

Their cheerful stance was a sight to be looked at again and again – soon the first rays of the sun started to cover the skies overhead and there was more light, the family seemed to be getting prepared for their next round of work , don’t know what it was but for sure, they had to dump their prized possessions to a safe pit for which they would get their daily wage – the source of their daily income.

As I stayed in my own thoughts, sipping through the cup of tea, the nomads just started to fade away from my sight and soon a time came that I was not able to see them. Time changes quickly, and it was my time to move on and start my day with a little marvel which I witnessed that will be amassed in my memory for a long time!