Unclaimed Kaleidoscope…

I tried to commemorate the happenings upside down to the best of my memory.

In a slight confusion, either to curse the design of the omnipresent omnipotent looking at the miniature kids who were left with His love alone or to praise Him to be present in few lovely humanitarians to save this minuscule angels from all the readymade traps available in the society, I stood alone, after everybody left Bethel home, waiting for Jaishree to finish her class and drop me in bus stop contemplating everything that has happened since the idea of getting new dresses for kids had its inception.  Few kids came running to me as if they know me for years and dragged me to join their game.

We formed two teams and I loved when all the little ones wanted to be in my team.  Somehow I managed to form two teams and searched for one among them that at least reached to my waist in height to nominate her as captain.  And my captain explained me the game, I nodded in agreement even though I understood the game my least.  The game started.

My captain walked to team mates, one by one sitting, clutched their hair pulled their head down to her side and said something in their ears.  In my urge to know what she is whispering in their ears, I waited impatiently and my turn came. I thought she would not clutch my hair since I am the elder most and tallest among them, meanwhile I am thinking, a hand held my hair tight, pulled and whispered “Mango” in my ear.  Oh God! I know this game, I understood the game.  Each team as to select an entity say fruits, flowers etc., and every team mate will be named correspondingly, that is why she whispered “Mango” in my ear, and the captain will reach the other team, choose one of them and close their eyes to call out a name, say a fruit name, so that her team mate who holds that name will go reach them and pinch the nose of the opponent and will go back to their place (My captain strictly said not to pinch but only touch for those miniatures will cry when pinched, even slightly).  The game goes on this way as the person has to find who has touched their nose from the opponent team.

When my turn came I reached out my opponent and pinched her nose very slightly and returned to my place.  Immediately after my captain took her hands from my opponent’s eyes, without even thinking for a second, she pointed her finger at me.  When asked how she identified that it is me, she said ‘you pinched my nose and nobody else here will do that” and laughed.  ‘Brilliant little ones’ I thought.

I have played this game very long back when I was a miniature and those kids brought it to my memory as if my brain had had prenatal memory.

We played yet another game before this; the catcher will catch as many as she can and arrest them inside a circle and the others has to come touch them to release them from the circle.  Oh, I ran as fast as possible, thought the catcher could not catch me, I could not withstand before their stamina and enthusiasm and was caught finally, but I loved it when the other little honey bunches tried very, very hard to escape me out of the circle.  At the end of the game everybody surrounded me to give me a hug.  O! Lovely feel it was.

            And this little angel, Radha, I knew not the reason but she felt very comfortable with me and hugged me whenever I went near her.  She was sad and literally cried when I bid her goodbye.

Somebody told me; to love or care any girl you need to look at her with the eyes of her father, and I felt euphoric when she hugged me and hanged out on me.  May be, it could be intense between a father and daughter.

Mixed with love and blessings of all those who contributed, we presented them the dresses. The happiness that we saw in their faces is like as if their parents turned to them and presented them the dresses.  Their smiles gave meaning to the call ‘Adopt a child for a day’; we did justice for the kindness of all those who responded for the call.

Within minutes a few little honey bunch went inside and came back colorfully in their new dress.  The first comment I heard from someone standing behind me is ‘perfect size’ (credit goes to Nisha, Revathi and kutty Revathi).  Eyes those missed that colors on those kids, which they presented with a blend of smile and joy, have missed the joy of looking into the most wonderful kaleidoscope of the world.  God could have been little more concerned about those wonders to make them stay with their families instead of making them an unclaimed kaleidoscope. 

Before we presented the dresses and sweets they sang songs for us from bible and it is marvelous to experience such coordination.

I felt Siragugal has become more like a family and the visits we do are like family gathering where we cherish the togetherness.  I felt happy to see Venkat and Raja with their family being along with them feels like meeting close relatives after a long time ( since we met in Gnanadarshan home for visually challenged girls last month)

Aha! And there came the ladies, Nisha, Revathi and kutty Revathi (who reached the home before time), they were the three who took care really to pick up right dresses in right size for those little angels.  During the selection I and Sriraman (the originator of the idea of new dresses for kids) could not convince them with any choices of us (most of the time we were wrong in size) and with the time (no matter how late they sustained searching for right size).   Kutty Revathi has to reach home early but it was 10.30pm when we finished our purchase and to my wonder she didn’t show a slight change in her face and Nisha, she said that it’s her wedding anniversary while returning from our purchase at 11.00pm.  ‘Theresa of Cashedge’ Sriraman mentioned sometimes back in one of the Siragugal’s meeting about Nisha that moment flashed in my mind when she said that. And Revathi; I could not measure her enthusiasm, even late at night, in picking up the colorful Salwars. Without them, I know, this could have been a toughest job to be accomplished. 

            When I entered Bethel home I saw Mohanraj and his fiancée interacting with those kids.  I was on cloud nine when they recognized me and said ‘Hi’.  The minutes went more interestingly when they performed individually as we were waiting for others to join us.

I could commemorate what have happened on that day but could not really contemplate any of those kinds of homes being present under the sun for they have people who stay look like macro piece of diamonds left out during a cut, though precious sadly they are thrown away.  I have suffered from home sickness when I stayed far away from my family and literally cursed God when I ran out of money but here I saw kids praying for the life (as an orphan!) He gave, for the food they get and for the love they miss.

Typical design! Though, makes me believe God exist (in the form of love).

And again a very special thanks to the contributors who responded magically super fast when asked to “adopt a child for a day”.

The hidden light...

Slowly I was sailing through every picture I took in Bethel home and for no reason I stopped at a picture.  I found her laughing godly.  I found her entirely different from all and I know her story as the care taker, the old mother, told me.   When I heard the story it was one among the story she told me but when I looked in her deeply today in the photograph I lost myself in thoughts imagined how it would be in her position. 

Many times I read to see god in everybody, but for that I need to see God in me.  Up to me at least I want to see me in whoever I see as only kids and a very few reflected the God in them and I found light in their eyes also I found them losing their light, the divine gift which is reflected in the eyes of very few, by their materialistic activities. And this little child, when I looked in to her eyes deeply their existed a melancholic rhythm of life could not understand the light that her eye emitted it was magical and mystical that gave me little bit of sadness in my nerves.  My gray cells could not identify the message it conveyed though it could recognize the mystery. 

And today I looked at her picture for a very long time and her smile, godly smile doesn’t looked like a smile but a cry of life, a smile of a wounded angel.  I recognized I am getting depressed and depressed every minute I looked at her picture. 

The old mother in the home told me that her father, when she was months old in the hands of her tribal mother, fell down from a tree and his back and hip bone broke.  Since he could no more do any work and run a family with a little kid his wife brought her little kid to the panchayat, laid her in the middle of all the people and walked away.

I know she was a very human so that she could not recognize the godliness in her.  Such a powerful eye she has got and mesmerizing smile.  Now when I sat before my computer, looked at her image and scratched my imagination to run a virtual picture what all could have happened I literally cried and thought I should share it with all and if possible I should show this girl to all in person because the light in her eyes, her smile, the curse she holds because of her mother stops my words to flow from up above. 

Eye-witness

…a memorable weekend; lot of happenings, lot of people to meet, lot of chit chats, lot of experience, and an incredible dream of a young chap something which amazed me.  Saturday, when I started my weekend, preparing for my bloggers meet I have got a call for an urgent requirement of blood and to enquire with my friends.  Immediately two things came to my mind: one; somebody remembers me when there is an urgency felt really blessed and happy to gain such a status which Siragugal gave me.  Second: We talked about an idea from Mohanraju to collect all the blood group of Siragugal members and maintain a record which we failed to do.  I called up, messaged all that I know and to give me shock I got a reply from, my more-than-a-Sis, Silambarasi ‘Urgent call me immediately’ before I dialed her number she called me to say ‘I am of that group let’s go’ Oh! I am proud to be your brother dear.  Anyways it was a requirement for an operation on Monday to I called back the one who called me to say we have a back up.

Immediately (my vice-captain) Prithvi called me to remind me that we are supposed to go to Bethel Home for girl children to collect the dress sizes so that we could get them suitable new dress before Diwali.  I called Jaishri (a volunteer of a great NGO Bhumi) to check the right time to reach Bethel home in fact I kept calling her and messaging her whenever I remember that I have to go to Bethel home, thanks for her patience.

 Saturday; the day started with few amazing responses and shocking replies and ended in meeting lot of complete strangers in a bloggers meet where I turned few complete strangers to complete close friends. And one last time (for the day) I disturbed Jaishri o know the timing; she said she would redirect me to Divya (another volunteer of Bhumi) and I ended the call without getting Divya’s number.

Sunday; as usual I started it lazily but as and when the hours passed I fastened myself to prepare for the pre-visit of Siragugal’s visit because this time this is going to be big and something different and I started feeling the heat it created.

Story behind: We in Siragugal were planning a visit to Bethel Home for Girl Children (where we funded and installed water purifier as part of Siragugal’s activity) for quite a long time.  When Diwali was ahead we planned to make those kids in Bethel Home to celebrate Diwali with us rather we celebrate Diwali with them (if your question is ‘what is the difference’ please wait).  Sriraman (an active volunteer of Siragugal) called me and said that he read somewhere, in an article where a girl in an orphanage says people celebrate their birthdays with us and we do not have anybody to celebrate ours. Uff! That is something which gave me Goosebumps. So instead we collect and give old clothes let us give them new clothes and make them celebrate the Diwali.

So let us make some difference.

When I was half the way to Bethel home, I have to take two trains and when I was waiting in the second station for the second train a guy met with accident and entire crowd joined together to talk about what had happened and the next moment as and when the next train horned everybody moved away on their way but then I could see everybody staying away, unusually, from the approaching train on the platform as a result of fear. 

Prithvi (My Vice Captain and young chap of Siragugal) and Revathi (a singer, who stays near to Bethel home and a active member of Siragugal) was already on time and waiting for me in the destination station (St. Thomas Mount) from where we have to travel along to Bethel. 

Meanwhile I messaged Jaishri o get contact number of Divya and before even I ask, Jaishri alled up Divya and informed we are coming and message her number to me.  We hired an auto and I started my touchier session on auto driver.  When we are very near to the Bethel home, the autowala didn’t seem to know the correct place but still we made him to roam around though he was murmuring something on the money we promised to pay.  And finally we reached Bethel Home (and on the way I learnt we are suppose to pronounce it as Beth-el and not as Be-thel)

Divya welcomed with charming smile, because we stayed away looking at a dog at the entrance.  We saw a small group of children about 25 and 5 charming volunteers of Bhumi. We started interacting with them while Revathi was busy collecting the data of dress.  We met an old mother who takes care of the entire home of 25 children.   

‘Only till twelfth standard we keep them here and after that I try to put them in the college to the max near to their home town. Four of them were studying nursing’ she said with a proud in her voice

‘Every kid here as a story, a book to write’ she continued ‘did you see those two kids they are twins and were eye witness of a murder case’ she continued

I was wondering what she was talking about, meanwhile we got our coffee (in fact boost) to drink.  I slowly sipped it and listened to her.  In between Revathi has finished her job with the children and came to the old mother to ask her age as part of data collection. 

‘… their father who is in jail requested a pastor who visits jail for prayers to take care of his children and then thru that pastor those twin kids were taken over by Bethel home.  Recently their father came out in Berol to see them and said that he is handing over his life to us to take care’ she said

Ok! But what is that eye-witness! I wondered.

‘That guy chopped his wife’s head when she was feeding her children, by then they were just two and now they were the eye-witness’ she stopped for a second.

Oh! For a second those eye-witnesses gave eye wetness in me!

Many more stories to learn but I don’t think I can bear that much heavy feelings in a day so I turned to children to interact with them and had photo session.  Gave chocolates that my vice captain bought after we reached that strange place.  After some times the old mother thought something and said remove my name and add our driver's name Emmanuel; oh! you see that is why she was able to run such a mission.
We bid good bye finally, Divya and her friend helped us to reach bus stop.

When I and Prithvi were in travel back home, he said ‘Captain, do you know my ambition; I want to build an orphanage on my own.  If fact I already had built one in dream; it is square in shape and in the middle a big tree, first ground floor entirely for aged people and the first floor is for children and you know lot more things I dreamt’ he said running out of words.  I was awestruck on listening to such an ambition for the first time in my life and that too from a young chap.  I pray his dream should come true one day. 

And I messaged Jaishri o thank her and end of the day many learning, many smiles, many chweet friends in Bethel and a good friend; Divya, and special friend; Jaishri, thanks for bearing me. 


Here is the pics : Bethel Home Photos
Here we are in Facebook : Siragugal
Bhumi : Bhumi

Comments and suggestion towards the blog, post and Siragugal are invited :)

FF - Fangs

The banana leaf was fresh and green, on which he was about to taste his favorite dish.  He was just six, looked lean but a cute little chap.   

With his sweet little fingers he took his favorite dish then he heard the sound when he was about to eat.  It was a well grown healthy dog, gave a annoyed grrrr  sound at him.  He was frightened and the fear made his hands to shiver and dropped the dish down back to the banana leaf.  He tried to take a piece from his favorite dish again and the dog barked at him showing its fangs.  

He got up and walked away from that waste basket placed outside of that party hall with tears in his eyes and hungry in his stomach. 

Kinda fangs are shown and seen everywhere…

Where is Teresa?

it slips a beat...: Where is Teresa?: Where is Teresa? "why this idiot starts this way" might be what you will be thinking, if you continue reading from here. Whatever, firstl...

Words or Deeds, what teaches?

…the car engine is still in ignition.  Pappu who is just 6 years of old, waiting in the car with his note to show to his dad ‘Dad promised me to take me to swimming’ Pappu wrote a week back.  Pappu was told by his teacher to write down things in a small note if he wants to remember it for long time. 

Pappu’s dad asked him to stay in car and walked with Pappu’s grandmother holding her in his arms.  She could not walk fast so even he walked as much slowly as possible with his mother.  Tears rolled downed from her eyes, she remembered the day when her son started walking holding her hand.  They reached a room; he made her sit in her bed.   She leaned on her son’s shoulder to make his shirt wet with her tears.  ‘Just one thing I want nothing other than death in your lap’ she said and kissed.

He got up walked fast towards his car standing out. 

‘Grandma, is not coming?’  Pappu asked him the moment he opened the car door.

‘No, she has become old’ he said

‘So’ Pappu cried

‘So, she will stay back, now don’t cry’ he replied.  He accelerated the car.

‘Dad stop’ Pappu said

‘Now what’ he replied

Pappu took his note book wrote something and said ‘Ok, let’s go’

He accelerated the car again.  After few miles he asked him what he wrote.

Pappu showed him what he wrote, he stopped the car suddenly.  Leaned on his steering for few minutes and took a u turn to go back. 

‘Dad will be old one day ….’  

Pappu tried to put it in words properly but he could not so in the next line he wrote,

‘….. Old Age Home’ and checked the spelling looking at the name board.

it's dark out there...

...as usual late, I got down late night from my train and I was on my way home on legs.  Few steps on the way the world went dark, oh! That is a current political chaos – power cut.  Are you afraid of the dark is if the question, of course yes because that’s a hereditary gift from our forefathers which is the mother of the invention; electricity and light.  

I beheld myself and walked slowly in the dark.  Few steps ahead, my leg slipped and was about to fall when I placed my foot in a pit. Uff! My heart beats slightly increased.  I felt a slight pain as if something had stung, could be a snake crossing the road and I interrupted it or could be just a stone which popped out from the pit, I thought, okay I need to walk fast.  Somebody dashed me on my chest after few more rigorous steps, somebody walked dashing me.  It pained, my heart beat increased along with my fear.

I kept walking, a baby cried, a child called his mom for help, a bird squawked, dogs howled to make me hear the sound of my heart beats since I could not see anything in the night.  For a fetus in the womb, wet with Amniotic fluid, the heartbeats of the mother is the only sound which soothes and make it sleep and kinesics – science of human gestures – says that that is one reason why we tap our legs when we hold back our emotions and why children sleeps at tapping.  But my heart beats didn’t soothe me rather made me afraid.
 

Somebody came running near me and I could not see one when I stopped but shocked when it barked.  Should I bark back to make him understand that I am not a demon in the dark!  Adding fuel to fire, he barked, oh! That is not apt here; it’s like blowing air at the burning candle in night. 

 I believe in guardian angel, I called them out to help me reach or show me the light.  Let whatever happen, let me fall and get hurt, let the dog jump and suck my blood, let a snake put me into pang with its fang I am not goanna afraid, save me my guardian angel, I prayed and I was shown light – power supply is back.  I wiped my sweat along with my fear and walked as if I am never afraid.

I reached home.  Refreshed, ate, and lied in bed.  

 Replayed whatever happened before last 30 minutes back.  No visions but analyzed all that got registered in my black box – brain. 

I trembled to sustain in dark just for 10 to 15 minutes even after growing up, with strength in body and I wondered how saplings of life – miniature children – and matured trees of earth – elderly people sustain the darkness of being left alone without love and care. 

How did the children who were made orphan will sustain in this concrete chaos – this world.  They have to walk in the dark without light, without somebody to hold them tight.  They might slip and fall into the pit which this society has dug for those who live in darkness.  They might be cheated by love and get a hard hit in their chest in the name of money and treasure.   

They were the fetus who slept in Amniotic fluid listening to the heart beats of their mother until they came to this mortal world.  That was the only thing which soothed them after which, I pray, somebody teach them to pat themselves to sleep.  There are blood sucking dogs here, there are demons that could blow the burning light of confidence and love in their heart.  

Thank God!

There were few guardian angels to save them, though, they cannot be a mom or a dad but they feed them with love, care them with agape (the unconditional love), fuel the lamp and give them the confidence to live the life, teach them the society and make them alive.   

Though we cannot be one among the guardian angels, at least, let us fuel their lamp and salute those guardian angels. 

Come let’s join hands like the feathers of the wings and make those torn souls fly high.

Roses @ Roshini

“Your dress looks too good” I complemented her. “Amma brought this for me” she replied
“Oh! Where is she?” I said.  I felt I should not have asked her this question. “She is in our native” she replied.  “Your ear ring is good” I complemented her to make her feel good.  “Amma brought this for me” she repeated it again. “You look so cute” I complemented her again.
She need not repeat the same response again.  I know her Amma bought her to the world, ouch! Sorry brought her to the world.  “Sweet heart, you Amma brought you to this world, not sure for what reason, and she brought you this home, not sure for what reason, but holding you in my arms, my anterior pituitary gland secretes prolactin”  I want to tell  her which she could not understand.  K. Vidya. Lean, chocolaty, dressed green, and her dress decorated with small pieces of chamikies all over the body, looked like angle in green.  She was the first one to talk to me or at least the one who caught my eyes.
“Do you like me?” I asked her. She didn’t reply but smiled.

I reached 3rd Street, Viduthalai Nagar, Roshini Charitable Trust at early morning eleven (early morning! Of Course it was a Sunday).  I reached the home first, nothing to brag, if I had missed my train which I took on that day, I would have reached only after lunch.  The moment I entered the home my super computer compiling some code (of conduct) so far started throwing exceptions, the reason was; there was an elderly lady in her early forties if my guess was not wrong. Short, pale, wearing a thick gold chain and she was fat, ouch! Sorry she was healthy.   She welcomed me as if I was entering some restaurant.   I waited for some long time; Mohan (Mic) joined me in another few minutes, sorry I have to mention mic’ because I was skeptical whether I could differentiate another Mohan who joined us few minutes later.  Very soon the lunch came in an auto and by the time we shifted the lunch inside the caterer too joined us.
We entered inside the home.  Silence prevailed; all sweet little sweets were watching television.  When we tried interacting,

 “Let all your gang come then you can have interaction with kids, because they will lose interest if they need to repeat it again to your friends” the elderly women interrupted.
We saw a small beauty sleeping at the corner of the room.  We sat close to the sweets and slowly started interacting with them.   K. Vidya came sat with me we started talking not listening to the interaction going around.  Suddenly Mohan tapped me to show something in his mobile.  It was a mentally disabled kid laughing happily when that snap was taken.  “Look, how happy he was when we spoke to him.  It was in Kakum Karangal “Mohan observed.  “Man, that’s a good snap.  I want to take a snap of me this moment and I want to show you how much happy I’m now with these kids” I thought of replying.  Oh! Did I say “mentally disabled”,  I know I should use the correct word “differently-able” but I myself go mentally disabled some times and also I don’t believe in any jargons but love or at least it would not affect even if that rose bud whom I mentioned so –heard.
Few minutes slipped.  Another Mohan and his brother, Bharath, Dinesh, Seshadri joined us.
“Fund is more and enough and just fund is not enough” that was my talk and I wanted to walk my talk and that was one reason I wanted to participate this visit.
Mohan, looking at me, immediately asked “you said you’re not coming”, I replied “I want to walk my talk”.  Nothing to brag about or might be a selfish reason that someone should not tell me I only talk and will not walk what I talk.

All Kidos accepted to switch off the television and got ready to interact with us.  We made everybody to introduce them and asked them to tell what they like.  They all got a honey dipped voice I sensed when they sang.   I observed a mind-blowing, extraordinary dance performance by Priyadharshini.   Everybody introduced them with their initials before their name.  And the how do I tell them that the reason for their initials were the sole reason for them to be there and different from other children’s who sleep next to their Mother - hugging, kissing their Father, fighting with their siblings.
Again the same elderly women intervened to shout “Magesh”.  A honey dipped sweet, sleeping at the corner of the room woke up suddenly and walked to her without attiring anything around him.  She lifted him and kissed.  After one long hour I got some respect towards her.  Every kid called her ‘Amma’.  I felt as if all the kids were under some Stockholm syndrome.  Stockholm syndrome is said to be empathy towards the kidnapers by the hostages.  Minutes slipped and we all loved the interaction with kids. In addition to all the sweet hearts, sweet heart of Mohan (mic) joined us with her friend.
Few minutes later “Time for lunch” announced the elderly women.

When you lift a hungry baby, it would try to hug the bosom and I remember I felt a biting once.  But when I lifted Magesh, he didn’t react as a normal baby.  He pointed his finger towards the elderly women.   He didn’t want to go or react to anybody’s words but her.  Magesh is one year and four months and he was in Roshini home’ from the day two he came to this world.  When we inquired more about him; his Mother was mentally ill and a police man brought him to the home.   “All these honey bunches are born either to mad parent or parent mad” I thought.  Sorry if I’m harsh but; I am not cursing.
I saw Vidya eating in slience next to Priyadharshini.  I went close to her, dashed my head with her and said “you didn’t call me.  Don’t you like me?” she responded with a smile.
Post lunch, kho-kho game was planned in reflection.  We saw some marvelous player among.  Both the Mohans tried to stroll through kids but kids were faster.  Meanwhile Dinesh and Seshadri bought ice creams for the kids. The home in charge told us medicines would help them better.  Most of the kids were affected by cold and mums (dammed! I could not stop telling this, all were affected by their mum’s) so the “Amma” (elderly women/in charge of the home) jumped in and announced “those who were not well don’t take ice cream, but don’t worry, I will keep it in fridge and will give you once you recover from cold”.  She called out the names not well and told them not to take ice creams.  She shouted but I sensed motherly care in her every word.  Even I felt calling her Amma. I saw Vidhya eating ice cream.  I went near to her and asked “you’re eating without giving me” she offered me ice cream and I feed her with her hand.  “I like you” she said after finishing her ice creams.  God! Finally I won her love.  Hmm! It’s tough to win even a small girls love.

 Meanwhile Seshadri disappeared, Kho-kho continued, and a beautiful couple Preethi and Jay joined us. Preethi as usual with her nature made the day of the children with many different games.  Seshadri brought medicines, Mohan (mic) started, biding loud goodbye to all the sweet hearts with his sweet heart.  Dinesh, Seshadri, Bharath too started after their good time in the game and with the kids.   I realized that I should start home.  I was content, happy, et cetra, et cetra.  Preethi & Jay, Mohan and his brother stayed back.

I felt like touching Amma’s feet.  I felt I should take at least one kid home if not Vidya.
Let me try to ‘walk the talk’ some day.

-Let me take all the dislikes’ towards this write-up and dedicate all the likes’ to those kids,
                                                                                                                      -Sathish

Siragugal

That was a plain road, wet after rain, in middle of woods, pleasantness of evening added beauty to it and willow trees stood on both the sides of the road.  Leafs scattered here and there on the wet road, water stagnated between trees, few yellowish leafs and water drizzles hanged in the air without moving or falling down.  In the right most corner, below a tree a pop up raised.  It was an outlook pop up alerting a mail has come.  When we do not understand something we say that it looks like Greek and Latin, even this looked something like that for me; the mail subject was a Greek word ὀρφανός  which meant ‘Orphaned’.  That was the Inception of Siragugal and the mail is from the one whom many a times revitalized  Siragugal since the inception.

I seldom visit an orphanage or an old age home.   I felt people out there where not scientific inventions placed in exhibition for us to visit, or at least it is not the place for us to prove that we are better than those residing there.  Those are the torn souls of life who are in need of peace; they are the caged spirits who need least of disturbance.    A toddler broke all my idiotic ideologies when I visited a home or a school where children are made orphan by their living parents.  His name is Tirupathi,  when I was with my team the air was normal, looked as if everything was fine and children out there were happy, I even wonder whether this how all orphanages will look like! 

I saw a boy who was crying; I went near and asked him why he should cry when all others were happy.  He said he want to go home.  I understood least of what was happening there.  He told me that his parents left him there two days back.  Gosh! This is a school/hostel for orphan children and why the hell should parents leave their child here and go!  Slowly things entered inside my slow processor.  The place where I was is one where children are left orphan by their own parents since they could not offer food and education for them.  This was just one reason which looked okay for me comparing to other reason which the warden of the hostel told me.

Since everybody else seemed fine with their feelings though they have their own pangs for which they are responsible not, I moved close with Thirupathi slowly he started playing and laughing with all of us.  I had lot of emotional feels when I looked the way my team folks moved with those kids.  When it was time for supper, everybody – around 180 children – sat in their own way of seating arrangement.  Supper time started with a 2 minute prayer and we were asked to serve to all 180.  In half the way I was totally tired and could not move an inch.  I went to Thirupathi, he doesn’t look like eating.  I asked him whether he will give me his food.  He feed me with his tiny hands.  Though the feel filled my eyes, the taste has cut my nerves and the throat resisted the food to go inside.  That gave me a lump in my throat, the bitter taste.  Can somebody eat such a bitter food!  That was a bitter punishment God has cursed them than making them an orphan.  Looking at Thirupathi few more kids wanted to feed me.  I didn’t resist, I just allowed that bitterest rice to go inside, my stomach was full, may not be because of the food but with the love of those sweet hands. 

Warden of the hostel started telling me stories of few notable children. For many years I was thinking only children without parents are the orphans but I heard a different version from a man who looks after that school where Gods are left orphan (Oh! Do not we say children’s are like Gods, that is what I meant).  Without father or mother, with mother but no father, with father but no mother, with father and his wife who is not the mother, with mother and her husband who is not the father, with many fathers, WITH FATHER AND MOTHER but still an orphan, let me stop the list which could go bad.  It was too heavy for me in heart to carry those feelings home.  When we started from there I searched for Thirupathi and he came running to me, smiling.  That smile broke all my ideologies into pieces.  I do not know whether those kids are really happy that we visited them but I was very much happy that I made that little kid smile.

Coming back to the inception of Siragugal: the first meeting was to discuss on deciding the name for the group.  When everybody suggested some name I too suggested a name; Kathal (love) and everybody gave me a weird look at me as if I came out directly from some mental asylum.  Okay, time for me to be silent I thought.  Siragual, name which was voiced loud and most agreed to it.  When deciding name was under discussion, a lovely name suggestion came to the plate, Swasam (that was a suggestion from one of our member’s soul mate) which I liked too.  Siragugal – the name for the group was finally decided, whole heartedly.

Two homes was short listed – NEST and Roshini – The first Visit by team Siragugal was to NEST home in Thirumullaivoyal and visit to Roshini home, Kovilambakkam has been lined up.  In between a sudden plan to visit Kakum karangal which is in Palavakam has been decided and that too went well.  I missed both so I do not know how much our people enjoyed being there.  After a short break, visit to Roshini home came again to table and I pushed myself to join our people and had a great time there.  That was yet another soul soothing day with those kids in Roshini.

In detail, we have everything is our Siragugal Facebook Page.  Contact any of the volunteers of Siragugal to join us or use subscribe by email option (top right corner of this page) or visit our facebook page and like it to show you interest so that we could add you into the group.