Poverty

I was walking towards the bus terminus after a long exhaustive day at work.

Not that I had a colored-collar job, but being a software engineer also exhausts us; mentally. People talk about the ease of working as an IT professional; full time AC, good salary, posh environment etc. There are a lot more complications in this job which can be understood only by people who live through it.

Though there are multiple buses that go to the terminus a kilometer away from my residence, I prefer taking this bus as it goes close to my home. This bus comes once an hour and is mostly crowded. It is also an economy bus.

I was startled by a loud scream from a kid close by. I looked around and saw poverty stricken people sitting at the corner of the terminus. They were new comers to the locality. There were few male and female members, few kids and an infant. All of them looked very confused. The male members continued to talk among themselves which seemed like they were trying to decide where to go then.

The infant continued to scream at the top of its voice. It had been screaming for more than a few minutes then. But the lady who was carrying the infant seemed to be less worried. She tried patting and swaying it a few times but did not try further.

“Hello” I heard someone close speak at the top of their voice. It distracted me.

“I am waiting for the bus. I will be there in half an hour or so. Wait for me.” The lady conveyed her message and cut the call not waiting for any response. She turned around looked at me and people close by and understood that she had spoken too loud. A small smile crept up her face. There were many people at the terminus by then. Few hawkers went about selling their stuff. The dusk was approaching and sun was very mild.

It suddenly struck me that the infant had stopped screaming. I turned around to check if the lot had moved. The lady who was holding the baby had covered its face partially. I assumed that she was feeding it. After a few minutes, a slow wind scooped up dust blew and it made me turn my face again towards the side where the lady was sitting. The wind had moved the cover over the baby’s face too.

I was shocked.

The lady was holding a piece of brick to the baby mouth. Yes, brick; a piece of the one that is used in construction. The baby continued to lick and suck it as though it was very much used to it. I was so baffled. Tears pooled my eyes. I walked towards a roadside shop, got few packs of biscuits and paid for them. I also located my bus at a distance.

I walked back into the terminus, straight to the lady and lent her a pack of biscuits; my eyes stuck to the baby. I handed over the remaining packets to the kids. The lady’s eyes looked at me in pain. I could see that she was trying to convey that she wasn’t doing it on purpose. I moved away and boarded my bus.

Luckily, the bus was empty and I got a seat to rest. I just then identified that I had been shivering and pouring down with sweat, unusual for that time of the evening. Tears trickled down my cheeks and something hard rolled up to my throat. I felt so stuffed up. I had already started bothering about the baby’s next food.
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Poverty.