Picture Courtesy: DWIT News
It was Sunday, 23rd August, 2015. I would like to call that day a so-called “strike day.” At around 11 a.m., the vehicles were on their way. By looking at the situation on the road, one could easily figure out that everything was normal and that only the schools and colleges were not open because of the fear resulting from rumors of the strike. The strike did not even last for half a day. I had gone to my friend’s house that day. I used to fear going out during strikes, but that day the nature of the strike neither stopped me from going out nor troubled my expedition. I got a vehicle as on any other normal day.
It was about 6 p.m. when I had arrived to the zebra crossing at New Baneshwor chowk. A mass of people by the road caught my eye sight and the sound of the instrument being played drew me to that place. I was then interested in getting to know what was really going on. The group was successful in drawing the attention of a majority of people, and I was no exception.
When I went near the group, I saw a man playing ‘Madal,’ which is a Nepali folk instrument. Two children were dancing to the rhythm of the song being sung by the man who was playing Madal; spectators could make out that the performers were enjoying whatever they were doing. They were happy when people were calling them and giving them some money. Amid all that, my glances got struck on the man who was playing Madal. He was trying to hide his face by his cap and he was not facing anyone. That scene made me wonder a little while. Letting the thoughts subside, after a few minutes and taking some videos, I decided to cross the road.
On my way back home, many thoughts hit my mind again: “Why that man was hiding his face?” “Why were the children made to be a source of income?” “Does it happen in many places?” “Had I seen it for the first time?” “How were the children able to enjoy what they were doing?” Many of these questions were disturbing my mind like the bumps on the road do for a vehicle. I had seen the innocence in those children. They were happy to dance. They were just happy. They were not bothered about being judged. They were in their own way. Their expressions were natural. They were happy to see people around them offering money and clicking photographs. Yeah! Everyone is born different and lives in a different way. Some get everything and are still unsatisfied, but some are happy even though they have so little. The scene I saw that day very well justifies this. Those children were joyous about whatever they were doing. Simply, it was enough to make their day.
But the man who was singing was using his children as a source of income. Why was he compelled to do so? Was it the only option for him? Was he feeling ashamed of what he was doing? Why was he trying to hide his face from the audience?
I could not figure out what the reason was behind all I saw that day. I still feel that I should have stopped a little longer and asked others for information, but I had no courage to do so in front of a huge mass. It is said that “Once time flies away, it never comes back” and I now realize that my opportunity to initiate a conversation with them has gone away. Hence, do not stay in confusion as I did. Go and grab the opportunity. Clear your confusion. See beyond the things you see on the outside to get to know what it is really about in the inside.
Being a child again, asking lots of questions and being inquisitive about almost everything can make our life even juicier because when we do so, we become pure and natural again!