Missing of an Old Woman (Story)---Murthy K v v s
Everybody in our pilgrim town knew that old woman, but I wonder whether anyone knew her whereabouts like her name and where she has hailed from and so on.The language she speaks can hardly be understood.Sometimes people used to stop there to listen her rantings.They laugh at her.For passers by, it's one kind of entertainment.Nothing more or nothing less.
She was always in her own world.Sometimes, she was staring in the sky as if there was some message being received.Sometimes, she keeps muttering herself in a gibberish language.Sometimes, sleeping with an old blanket wrapped over her.Our townsfolk is liberal.They never dare to touch her in any aspect, by letting her live like it.
People found her that she was no way hinder to their ongoing entertainment.But there was always a long heavy bamboo stick in her hands.Just like Kali mata holding a Trishul.Keeping it in view, a safe distance is maintained by the mob.As days rolling by, people lost interest in her.She became an unannounced integral part of our town.
Even the traffic police would not go against her though she made her bed on the dividers of the road.Fortunately vehicles were not dashing, such a precision in things would come to our people when seeing heart wrenched scenes like it out of compassion.And why should not they take initiative to send her the best hospital to cure this mental ailment? No hands to work, alas.
People empowered with great fortunes, coveted positions and influence would go on the road, seeing them with callousness.What can stop them if they are really determined to help these ill-fated poor ones?These mentally sick people on the streets belonged to none.Are these bound to die like a dog or a pig one day?What society we're living in?
Gopal, a friend of mine has a xerox shop, met me on the road one day.He told me an interesting news about the old woman. "Do you know something? I interacted with the woman who always was seen by the side of dividers which is exactly opposite to our shop.She was not so chronic of mental disorder.There was a little bit of confusion in her thought process.Had she been taken care by any of her family members, she would have become a normal person?She must have been on the verge of getting delusions by now.I afraid it worsens further more.."
"Gopal, you even ventured to talk to her.That's great.People like me posing as good samaritan never dared to approach her.She was bathing, sleeping and doing everything in that makeshift tent that can be washed out by any gutsy wind.Thank God, no vehicle claimed her life though it is on the road.As per your account, she could be all right by a small initiative taken by any kind person.But who would that be anyway.."I sighed.
"Your concern about a destitute one is laudable.Let's wait for a few more days.Then, we shall contact any NGO working on the cause of it.Or let's take the issue to concerned government authorities.Hope that will suffice on our part, I think."Gopal said.
"Hmm...you're right."I admitted.
Gopal and I were busy with our routine afterwards.But she was there all the time whenever I happened to be crossing the road on any work.Be it a hotter day or a colder day?It seems no matter for her.I tempted to interact with her to test her level of sanity.On seeing someone who does know me well, I was taken aback.
After a couple of weeks, I was called for interview in Chennai.I enjoyed my trip a lot, apart from the actual purpose.I took a bus journey from Vijayawada to our pilgrim town, in return.In fact,our nearest railway station is Bhadrachalam road.Ironically it is situated at Kothagudem, almost 40k.m. away.That has a story of a thriller written by a tollywood screenplay writer.So the lesser said is better.
It was almost past midnight returning from my journey.There was no sign of that old woman on the road.Shocked to discern the reality.I have had intently observed that no trace of her rags or makeshift tent around the dividers on the road.Clueless to guess.What happened to her in the mean time?Shifted to somewhere else?This is the safest place for her to abstain from all kinds of dangers. You could understand the sense.
Oh.who am I to think all of it,my conscience moaned.You're a human being like her, the other side of it resisted.How difficult it is to have empathy though which is the salt of the earth.With all these concerns, my brain heated up all along the night, in the bed.
"Gopal...How did she get disappeared from there? What happened to her, met any accident?" I inquired him the next day.He appalled at my curious concern and shook his head.(
"I was busy with my work and little known about it.My wife who looks after our shop, once said that the poor woman had transported by a van on some day.We don't know further details about the van to whom which belonged and where she had been to."Said Gopal.
I sighed.God, what the secret of your playing.She is already out of her mind.Where should she go and do?Once, way back in her life, she could have been a lady like any other.And now became a street ridden by the family of her own.And in this holy country which valued the family system a lot.
After a few days, being that old woman vanished clueless, I went to Aalubaka...a small village where one of my friends named Naren kept working as a science teacher in a high school.He is a bibliophile.We get engaged into talking for hours and hours whenever we meet and subjects varied to infinite.He answered one of my queries related to mental ill-health.
"schizophrenia is very prevalent among the people.There are five types in it.In our country, people think of insulting to meet a concerned doctor.And it gets chronic as time passes by.A survey report says every three person out of five needed this kind of check up but hardly cared by people.What to talk of empathy?the less we talk, the better..."Said Naren.
"You're right.We would see this kind of ill-fated ones on every street and no one gives a damn for them.Perhaps they must have been in advanced stage, unconscious of dressing and cleanliness..."
"Fortunately, there is a trend of recognizing such people have begun" Naren passed a news paper to me.It carried an interesting news article.To my surprise, It was about the old woman of our town.She was getting tonsured in the photograph.Our sub collector has taken initiative to send all these people to the special hospitals.At least one officer was there with a right spirit, let this tribe increase.
I don't know how I have had missed this paper on the day.However, with a happy note, the story ended.I was desperate to see the name of the sub collector.It was Yogita Rana by name. (Written by Murthy
Kvvs)
Everybody in our pilgrim town knew that old woman, but I wonder whether anyone knew her whereabouts like her name and where she has hailed from and so on.The language she speaks can hardly be understood.Sometimes people used to stop there to listen her rantings.They laugh at her.For passers by, it's one kind of entertainment.Nothing more or nothing less.
She was always in her own world.Sometimes, she was staring in the sky as if there was some message being received.Sometimes, she keeps muttering herself in a gibberish language.Sometimes, sleeping with an old blanket wrapped over her.Our townsfolk is liberal.They never dare to touch her in any aspect, by letting her live like it.
People found her that she was no way hinder to their ongoing entertainment.But there was always a long heavy bamboo stick in her hands.Just like Kali mata holding a Trishul.Keeping it in view, a safe distance is maintained by the mob.As days rolling by, people lost interest in her.She became an unannounced integral part of our town.
Even the traffic police would not go against her though she made her bed on the dividers of the road.Fortunately vehicles were not dashing, such a precision in things would come to our people when seeing heart wrenched scenes like it out of compassion.And why should not they take initiative to send her the best hospital to cure this mental ailment? No hands to work, alas.
People empowered with great fortunes, coveted positions and influence would go on the road, seeing them with callousness.What can stop them if they are really determined to help these ill-fated poor ones?These mentally sick people on the streets belonged to none.Are these bound to die like a dog or a pig one day?What society we're living in?
Gopal, a friend of mine has a xerox shop, met me on the road one day.He told me an interesting news about the old woman. "Do you know something? I interacted with the woman who always was seen by the side of dividers which is exactly opposite to our shop.She was not so chronic of mental disorder.There was a little bit of confusion in her thought process.Had she been taken care by any of her family members, she would have become a normal person?She must have been on the verge of getting delusions by now.I afraid it worsens further more.."
"Gopal, you even ventured to talk to her.That's great.People like me posing as good samaritan never dared to approach her.She was bathing, sleeping and doing everything in that makeshift tent that can be washed out by any gutsy wind.Thank God, no vehicle claimed her life though it is on the road.As per your account, she could be all right by a small initiative taken by any kind person.But who would that be anyway.."I sighed.
"Your concern about a destitute one is laudable.Let's wait for a few more days.Then, we shall contact any NGO working on the cause of it.Or let's take the issue to concerned government authorities.Hope that will suffice on our part, I think."Gopal said.
"Hmm...you're right."I admitted.
Gopal and I were busy with our routine afterwards.But she was there all the time whenever I happened to be crossing the road on any work.Be it a hotter day or a colder day?It seems no matter for her.I tempted to interact with her to test her level of sanity.On seeing someone who does know me well, I was taken aback.
After a couple of weeks, I was called for interview in Chennai.I enjoyed my trip a lot, apart from the actual purpose.I took a bus journey from Vijayawada to our pilgrim town, in return.In fact,our nearest railway station is Bhadrachalam road.Ironically it is situated at Kothagudem, almost 40k.m. away.That has a story of a thriller written by a tollywood screenplay writer.So the lesser said is better.
It was almost past midnight returning from my journey.There was no sign of that old woman on the road.Shocked to discern the reality.I have had intently observed that no trace of her rags or makeshift tent around the dividers on the road.Clueless to guess.What happened to her in the mean time?Shifted to somewhere else?This is the safest place for her to abstain from all kinds of dangers. You could understand the sense.
Oh.who am I to think all of it,my conscience moaned.You're a human being like her, the other side of it resisted.How difficult it is to have empathy though which is the salt of the earth.With all these concerns, my brain heated up all along the night, in the bed.
"Gopal...How did she get disappeared from there? What happened to her, met any accident?" I inquired him the next day.He appalled at my curious concern and shook his head.(
"I was busy with my work and little known about it.My wife who looks after our shop, once said that the poor woman had transported by a van on some day.We don't know further details about the van to whom which belonged and where she had been to."Said Gopal.
I sighed.God, what the secret of your playing.She is already out of her mind.Where should she go and do?Once, way back in her life, she could have been a lady like any other.And now became a street ridden by the family of her own.And in this holy country which valued the family system a lot.
After a few days, being that old woman vanished clueless, I went to Aalubaka...a small village where one of my friends named Naren kept working as a science teacher in a high school.He is a bibliophile.We get engaged into talking for hours and hours whenever we meet and subjects varied to infinite.He answered one of my queries related to mental ill-health.
"schizophrenia is very prevalent among the people.There are five types in it.In our country, people think of insulting to meet a concerned doctor.And it gets chronic as time passes by.A survey report says every three person out of five needed this kind of check up but hardly cared by people.What to talk of empathy?the less we talk, the better..."Said Naren.
"You're right.We would see this kind of ill-fated ones on every street and no one gives a damn for them.Perhaps they must have been in advanced stage, unconscious of dressing and cleanliness..."
"Fortunately, there is a trend of recognizing such people have begun" Naren passed a news paper to me.It carried an interesting news article.To my surprise, It was about the old woman of our town.She was getting tonsured in the photograph.Our sub collector has taken initiative to send all these people to the special hospitals.At least one officer was there with a right spirit, let this tribe increase.
I don't know how I have had missed this paper on the day.However, with a happy note, the story ended.I was desperate to see the name of the sub collector.It was Yogita Rana by name. (Written by Murthy
Kvvs)
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