Even today as we will whizz through the city to make our last minute shopping or drop the now proverbial box of sweet and/or Diwali gift - ranging from a set of cheap glasses brought from a China market or a box of the finest crystal from branded stores - we will not see the little girl who taps at our car window, and even if we see her and even give her a coin, we will not get outraged at the fact that a child of India, protected by the same Constitution we have such pride in, is begging. We will not remember the laws that exist and certainly not ask ourselves what we can do to make sure that the childhood of children that are not ours is protected.
How quick we are to take up the cudgels on behalf of our children if they are slighted in the least? How we run to school to meet teachers and principals if we feel that our child has been hurt? Then why is it so difficult for us to feel a light empathy towards the child that begs at a red light or the one that works at your neighbour's home? These are questions that have always disturbed me and continue to do so each and every time I see a child in pain. How I wish I could take each and every child and give him what he truly deserves: love, security, care, education and the right to see his dreams come true. Even after 12 years of working with underprivileged children and trying to fulfill their dreams, I still feel extreme sadness and helplessness.
It is only when we all feel responsible for all that is not right that things will really change.