Like the creation, in a corner of the dilapidated building, a teenager silently goes on doing his daily chores unperturbed by the busy lives around him. His parents abandoned him there when he was a toddler and some kind souls helped him to get into a Shelter Home for the neglected children. At eighteen, he decided to leave the Home and returned to the same spot where his parents left him years ago. Someone might have told him the story about where and how his parents abandoned him, without least realizing the repercussion resulting from it.
The place looks dirty with all the trash, animal carcasses and rotten woods scattered around. He was squatting amidst the rubbish and gently trying to remove the pile of rubbish one by one, in a very meticulous manner, as if handling pieces of broken glasses. I stood by the electric pole adjacent to the old building and stared at this strange yet interesting character. In my mind, I was asking some questions of which I never get the answers until now. I asked some of the passersby but no one gave me good answers. All that I hear from them is, ‘He is mad character’. But, I don’t think he is mad. A clear separation differentiates him from the sane and insane. Still I am very much disturbed to see a young man spending his time in the middle of piled rubbish. Occasionally he turned and stared at me before resuming his interest.
The curiosity began to well up within me, and finally I decided to approach him and find out what is that exactly he is looking for. Perhaps I could help him to find that, thus save him from cruel heat of the sun. I moved towards him slowly, very much aware and prepared to face any untoward reaction from him. As my feet wade through the muddy soil, I could smell the stench of carcasses, so strong, unbearable. Once I am closer to him within the distance of a meter, he stared at me. There was a deep longing in his eyes. I did not open my mouth yet, when he suddenly burst out crying. I placed my left arm on his right shoulder, while my left arm was wiping his tears. After a brief moment, we exchanged a few words and he was certain that I am not an enemy but a friend. He continued the search again, and I interrupted with my question.
“What are you searching my dear boy?”.
His answer rooted me to the earth.
“I am searching for my parents’ footprints. I want to go back to them”.
My tears rolled, and I retraced my steps with a silent prayer in my lips, not knowing what to do at that instant of time.
Copyright by Wintere26.
Date: 24 August 2010.
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