She Cried ...

Rummaging through trash for leftover food, she cried. Tears streaking down her pale six year old face, she sorted through the garbage in desperation to find a morsel of food discarded by others. She hadn’t eaten anything since morning and the hunger was now unbearable. Survival is tough for street children and she knew it, however, she was determined to not give up. One trash can to the other, she kept looking for food and she knew that she wouldn’t stop until she had fed herself. All of a sudden, under the flickering yellow light of the street lamps, a small box of half eaten chicken nuggets smiled at her. The box was torn just enough to reveal that it wasn’t empty. Her tiny hands struggled to reach the box, allowing the tip of her fingers to only touch the box but not grab it. She stood up on her toes and leaned forward as much as she could, little bubbles of saliva forming at the corner of her mouth. Nothing! The box stayed put where it was, tantalizingly close, yet so far. She jumped with all her strength, only this time her fingers managed to not only touch the box but also go through it, allowing her to briefly touch the cold pieces of chicken – but still, staying out of reach. She licked her finger tips that had touched her dinner, and felt mesmerized by the taste of oil and salt. “Another try”, she said to herself and plunged into the trash can. This time she managed to grip the box and shrieked in joy when her little fingers managed to grasp it. Smiling from ear to ear she pulled out the box and triumphantly ran towards a cleaner part of the street where she could enjoy her well earned dinner. A large and scruffy street dog appeared out of nowhere and barked loudly, scaring her. She accidently dropped the box and before she could pick it up the dog had already started feasting on the chicken bits. She just stood there, trembling with fear, watching the dog fill up his belly as hers remained empty. Born into poverty, she cried.

Looking for a piece of cloth to use as a blanket in the harsh winter, she cried. Not only did she need something to keep her warm, but also to protect herself from the lusty eyes of men. There are always many who are willing to give a seventeen year old beggar a few coins if she gave them something else. There were also others who were just looking for an opportunity to take what she had by force. Scared, she was, but also determined to not let anyone rob her of her dignity. She spotted a blanket hung out to dry on a tree by the rickshaw puller’s hut. She didn’t want to steal but didn’t know what else to do. The nights had become long and cold and she desperately needed something to keep warm. She looked around to see if anyone was watching and hid behind the bushes to wait for an opportune moment. When there was no-one in sight, she tiptoed towards the tree and just as she was about to reach for the blanket rough hands grabbed her wrist. “You thief!”, mumbled the rickshaw puller. She cried and begged forgiveness, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I will teach you a lesson, you thief!” and dragged her behind the bushes. She tried to fight him away, but she was no match for his brute strength. He cupped her mouth with his hands, rendering her pleas of mercy inaudible. He ravaged her for over an hour and finally when he was done with her, told her that he would kill her if she told anybody. Spitting on her, he walked away with the blanket. Stripped of her honor, she lay half dead on the grass, writhing in a ball of pain and blood. Born into adversity, she cried.

Driven away from the brothel on testing HIV positive, she cried. Covering her weak and fragile body, she walked in the relentless rain, desperately seeking a dry corner. With no roof over her head, she didn’t know where to go. She looked up to the skies and wondered what had she done to deserve such a wretched life. Even though she hated the brothel, it had been her home for the last several years – her only home ever. She couldn’t understand why life was so unjust that it had forced her into the brothel when she didn’t want to go in, and why it had forced her out when she didn’t want to leave. She noticed a small building and thought that she could spend the night under the stairs, but the security guard yelled at her and threatened to call the police. Rejected and shunned once again, she walked on into the dark night thinking if the release of death would be better than this sorry excuse of a life. She kept walking until she reached the steps of the Hare Krishna temple, and sat there. She closed her eyes and thought about her life and ways to end it. Born into destitution, she cried.

When she woke up, it was already morning. Some old ladies had gathered around her wondering if she was dead. They took her into the temple and fed her. They gave her proper clothes and a showed her a place where she could take a shower in private. They talked to her, asked her where she came from, and who she was. As she told her story, one of the women hugged her and said “Don’t worry now. God will take care of you now”. Over the next many days, she continued living in the temple under the care of the kind old women who nurtured her and gave her the affection that she never got from anyone. For the first time ever, she felt the love of a family. She even got a job as a cleaner in the temple that allowed her to make a living. Slowly and gradually, she started feeling at peace and settled into her new life. On the auspicious day of Krishna Janmashtami, she sat down to pray with her new family and closed her eyes. Brought into His grace, she smiled.