the days after..

had little sandhya survived we would have been heroes. However with hindsight and even after mulling hours into the night death is the kindest gift my friend the God of lesser children could have done for this unloved child.

I do not know if in this sometimes absurd and incomprehensible land of hours rituals are performed for a child, or whether a child is mourned at all. True that a certain amount of visible wailing and chest beating was performed but now it seems it was more as a prelude to the drama that was to unfold..

I normally do not sit in judgement for anyone, that is not the role I was given, at best I watch from the wings. In Sandhya's case it was clear that her hole in her hear, her cyanotic hue reminiscent of that of the lord of the Gopis, her lost eyes were all a means of exploitation, a father that was simple minded, a surrogate father that was comparable to the shrewd advisors of epics of yore-years.. a strange cast..

and what role did we have to play? were we to be the ones who would rescue lady S.. maybe .. what we did not contend for is the aftermath.. the phone calls trying to feed on the memory of the poor child, extract the last ounce.. and the absurdity of it all.. hold us responsible..

once again we can see our detractors at play, those who have never wanted us to be as we can help change things and hence disturb their carefully planned lootshop.

the story goes like this.. they went to AIIMS, could not muster 61K. we helped them with the money and paid it, the child was too far gone, she died after 3 attempts by the best doctors in India, and we are responsible..

strange India...