I see some faces….neither do I know them nor are they even distantly related to me.
Fighting endless day to day battles…going through the same lanes everyday…
Those eyes stare at me. Amidst over crowded places. Among a forest of self-involved people.
While walking through these lanes everyday…I stumble upon some black and white…some colored posters.
The details written in this poster don’t tell a joke or a story
But they make my eyes tense and my mind worried.
They make me stand and stare.
Below the forlorn faces with desolate eyes
Is a date…is a name. Which tells us about those who have suddenly ceased to be seen in their home fronts.
This story is about those who have been missing since weeks and months.
Within my daily travels, I try to memorize these faces. That maybe the hopes of those dejected families don’t die in vain. That maybe the so called Mr. Khan, the little Rahul, will be found. That maybe I might get the chance to give them back their world.
Every morning these families have just one question-Will their destiny show them the day?, the day when they meet their lost one.
Will the one who went or was perhaps taken way ever return?
They say in this city nothing is ever the same. Everyday a lot new people come….but among those lot, some few never saw their home that day.
Their families went out for their search in every nook and corner with crestfallen eyes…
Wondering that maybe they might have done something wrong. Something so wrong that the posters put up by them were ignored by you and me with great ease.
A that time we are busy in minding our own business and rightfully so—but trust me someone siting in a tent or maybe resting in a bungalow is waiting for that one phone call.
I wish our minds stored each and every face…I wish we had such supernatural abilities…which imprinted each face on the canvas of our mind.
So that, maybe. You would notice that old man who was asking for his own address
That clueless child who was running to someplace unknown…
That little girl in the embrace of a mother who didn’t look like her…
At that time we all were present right there. Lost somewhere in our own world.
But just think for a second…
What if those people were the faces that are now rare?
I know my words might not be piercing enough to make you realize
And I know you don’t have any time to sacrifice
But I request you the next time you see a poster, stand for some time and try to read it a bit
The faces on them will feel good.
That even though for a minute…someone stopped…someone tried to remember their faces…that someone cared!
Maybe our minute efforts may bring them back to their own world.
FACT -According to the report of home ministry in 2014, one lakh children go missing in India every year.
This number is surely not peanut sized. Your one glance…your one effort to remember a face …to notice, might just bring down this number by a little bit.
And oftentimes “little bit” is all you need to bring a huge difference.
(This write up is inspired from a poetry i saw somewhere.And i felt compelled to write about it. Hats off to the person who thought about this beautiful idea.)