Disabled

Winter mornings and sunshine…that’s one of the best combinations I guess. Wrapped up in my jacket, I sat on a chair outside my home, reading the newspaper, and marveling at the beauty of nature. It was a cheerful morning with bright sunrays invading into winter’s cold territory. It was 7 a.m. and there were very few people on the road.

Bansi, our neighbourhood chaiwala, said, “Namaste Samar bhaiya”, and handed me a cup of tea. It was a part of my daily routine to have morning tea from him. The kids of the locality were playing football. They enjoyed the privilege of a quiet playing area, with not many vehicles plying on the road at that time of the day. I knew all the kids quite well, but, that day, I saw a new face amongst the crowd of so many familiar faces. It was a cute brown-haired boy of around three-four years. On enquiring from another kid, I came to know that he was Harsh, the only son of a couple who had moved into our locality yesterday. His mother stood in the fourth floor balcony, watching her little one playing with his new found friends.

Something about that little boy touched me. At times, we meet people, whom we don’t know, but, still feel somewhat attached to them. Harsh was one of such people… a cute boy, with an even cuter smile.

I had got back to reading my newspaper, when I suddenly heard a little voice shouting, “Ball!! Ball!!” I looked up. It was Harsh. He was running behind the football and a car was coming towards him. The little kid, unaware of the approaching danger, was busy running for his football. I screamed, “Hey! Harsh…Look out!” But it was too late. The car had hit his left leg and he lay there in a pool of blood. The car was nowhere to be seen.

His mother came rushing out from her building and picked him up, screaming for help. Till then, many people had gathered there, and, someone took him to the hospital. As the lady went away, she had a look of disgust in her eyes when she saw me, and uttered the words, “You could have saved him”.

These words shook me from within. Yes, I could have saved him.

I wish I could have.

I saw the danger coming towards him and, had I acted in time, the child might not have been hurt. When I saw the car moving towards Harsh, I wanted to rush to him and save him. But, my legs won’t budge. I was helpless. I had never felt so disabled in my life; not even the day the doctor told me that I won’t be able to stand on my own legs ever. Yes, I am handicapped. I cannot walk from the past five years. But, the guilt and disgust I felt that day was hundred times more than I had ever felt in those five years. The pain of leaving my job, living on my brother’s earning, and, always needing someone to take care of me was already too much for me to handle. Now, with this guilt in my heart, I did not wish to live anymore.

I could do nothing for the little brown-haired boy, except praying for his well-being.

In the evening, I got to know that Harsh was well and, would be discharged from the hospital in a day or two. The injuries were not too deep, and he would be able to walk easily.

I was happy.

I did not want him to become another handicapped Samar.