Skip to main content

God's Children

                       Indian Kids Begging in Trains (22 pics)   

It was a lovely morning when I boarded the train from the Mambalam station; I purchased a ticket and took a seat in the partly filled vendor compartment. As usual vendors of every type advertised their pens, cucumbers, colouring books and guavas. I bought a packet of peanuts and started munching away to pass the time.

I was half-asleep and lolling on the metal wall of the train when I heard tapping sounds in a rhythmic wave. I sleepily gazed around the compartment to find out the source of such noise. I found a woman who clad a ragged sari tapping a vessel with a wooden stick. When I looked at the center of the compartment, there was this girl who was no more than five years old somersaulting, dancing and doing other sorts of tricks with a small iron ring of her size.

As the tapping ended, she ran to her mother to collect the vessel and came over to the passengers to beg for money with her infantile voice struggling to complete her words. As she came near me and looked at me with her liquid eyes, I saw her features clearly. She looked very pretty but her features were hidden beneath grime and dust and she wore a pink frock that was flowing down to the floor and definitely not her fit.

And it was also evident that she is never going to make it to school and forever be a dancer for her mother’s taps and a bread winner for her family which probably contained a drunkard father and a deaf and dumb mother. She pointed her vessel at me and nodded her head with loud ramblings which I could not understand. After she found me unwilling to part with a rupee or two, she longingly looked at the cooling glasses that I had in my hands and turned away with the jingling vessel pointing at another passenger.

I felt guilty to not give her any money, but I felt it best not to encourage such children. I strongly feel that it is upto us and the government to take initiative to provide education to each and every child in India. Even though the government has made it compulsory for every child to attend school till the age of 15, there are many children on the streets who don’t get proper schooling and literacy and being made to beg by their own parents is a really disturbing situation for the child and he/she may not see any progress in her lifetime.

Good education is an integral part of every human being’s life and it is very essential that the humble children who are made to beg in the streets and trains should be imparted with it for a wealthier, happier and a progressive nation to exist in the future.

Image courtesy: Internet


  1. Very well written, pretty interesting towards the end and loved the way you concluded this post
    Keep up with the good work

  2. Well described one Gayu. Every Child deserves education.

  3. I too have witnessed such scenes when I used take EMU trains to Tambaram. Such sad state of affairs. I have sunk myself in such thoughts about the future of that girl but I couldn't help giving a rupee sometimes :(

    I hope the children are in the safe hands and not a part of some begging gang who has some boss who forces these mothers to beg with their children!!

    1. Yes...yes there is that issue too. In this whole wide world, it is only man who cheats man for greed, lust and survival. :(


Post a Comment

Speak your mind

Popular posts from this blog

A jungle of hell

I lost my way in the woods,
there is no sunshine to caress,
no rain to melt with,
no green to rejoice in,
yet a jungle.

I lost my way in the woods,
with no guffaws of the hyenas,
no chatter of the monkeys,
or the roars of a lion,
yet a jungle.

I lost my way in the woods,
with no pearly falls from the mountain,
no mountain at all,
no chilling breeze cutting through my sweat,
yet a jungle.

I lost my way in the woods,
with not the music of the bamboos,
not the trot of a deary deer,
nor the melody of a cuckoo,
yet a jungle.

I lost my way in the woods,
with not the hunters killing for food,
with not the saw men cutting for good,
nor their intent very pure,
yet a jungle.

I lost my way in this wood,
where there are concrete all around,
bricks that overlay the fertile land,
gummy tar that nullifies the greens of the ancient past,
yet a jungle.

I lost my way in this wood,
where there is no land to plough,
no soil to seed, no shoots to water,
yet food to eat, in the heavy laden plates of gold,

The smells that lacquered 'HOME'.

Turning smelly air into smiley takes a lot of time and effort. But my mother and my grandmother were harbingers of tidying our home and enravelling mystical aroma into the air. I strongly associate some fond memories of my grandmother when I think about the different smells that unfurl at home.

Every morning when I used to wake up by 9:00 AM as a kid, the first person I used to almost see was my grandma. She would be cutting vegetables for my mum to cook. The aroma of turmeric from her golden yellow skin used to waft in the air. When she calls me for bath and to apply turmeric on me, I used to runaway fearing the rabid yellow stains that my face will suffer. But I secretly steal a pinch of the yellow powder just to smell the pungent smell of it. 
My grandfather was a voracious reader. When the clock strikes 6, he used to eagerly look forward to the arrival of the paper boy with his favourite 'The Hindu' news journal. When he reads the newspaper, I used to sit on his lap and s…

When the ragged requited his passion...

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with

There were streaking sparks from the distant star that were scorching the narrow roads of the metropolis. I was reclined in the four-wheeled luxury skimming over a glossy magazine with skinny models teething in glamour. There was also this favourite melancholy of mine that was shrilling the juke box that I had installed into my car. 

As I passed by a pawn-strewn road flooded with scorchy rays, I happened to notice a middle-aged man who was in ragged attire (a mud-stocked banniyan and a lungi tied up to his thighs) squatting on to a stone. He had his face covered with a beard unshaven for a few days and brown, unkempt mane that fell over his forehead. 
Yet I noticed something that was so attractive about him. He was too concentrated onto something he was doing to even notice anything that was happening around him, the sun drinking away his body-moisture, him sweating profusely …