Blue Eyes

Reads: 16  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


The blue, innocent eyes of a small girl hide sorrow, pain and sufferings but is full of hope and desire.

Submitted: November 18, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 18, 2017

A A A

A A A


As I made my way through the crowd, I saw her. Small hands holding a steel bowl, wearing a ragged dress. Her eyes were what made me stop. Big, deep, blue eyes. Dirty face and messy hair could not stop making her beautiful because she had beautiful eyes. I watched her, running after her mother who had a small figure in her hands that looked like half-dead to me. She held her mother’s clothes and looked at me. As her eyes met mine, I realized the depth of destitution and hope at the same time. Watery blue eyes told a story – a story that was the narrative of millions of others.

As I got on the bus, I saw her eyes following me. I shuddered because I wanted to help her - take her out of her misery. But this society makes us helpless. No matter how much we try, we are only able to reach a few people and nothing changes.

I passed her every day as I took the bus to the office. And, she would watch me the same way every day. As if she found solace in me from her miserable life. And I did not disappoint her after that day.

It was 5th of January, a foggy and cold day. I left my home early to catch the bus. I wished not to see her that day like every day but my wish got denied. I reached the stop and to my horror, she was there on the footpath. Curled up in a ragged shawl, beside her younger brother; she was asleep with her head on her mother’s lap who was shivering. I could not stand that scene and called my manager that I will get late. I stood there for a while and grappled with the idea that clicked in my mind. It is absurd, I thought. But, it is freezing and she had no blanket. I wondered how quickly thoughts change. I walked up to the footpath and handed my muffler and shawl to the shivering lady. She whispered thanks and demanded some money to buy something to eat. In this while, the blue-eyed girl woke up and nervously watched me giving a 20 rupee note to her mother. I gave her a wide smile and walked home to get something warm for myself.

That evening, I tried to persuade my family to let me help that girl as much as I can. I don’t know why but I felt something in her eyes. She never spoke to me but her eyes spoke everything. So, did her mother’s shivering body. My mother agreed to give all the old, warm suits to give to the lady, my younger brother’s clothes to the lady’s son and my big dresses, sewed smaller by my mother to fit her size. It was amazing and, at the same time, heart-breaking to see the lady – Bibi Nadia - crying to have clothes to wear. Blue-eyed girl and his younger brother held their mother’s torn-up dress as they saw me and my mother approach them. Mahnoor- the light of the moon, was the name of the blue-eyed girl. And Azaad was the name of the little boy. Both giggled as they wore the new dresses and ate the halwa that Ami had made to give to them. Their eyes were the prettiest but they had cried the most. Their smiles were the brightest but they hid pain and sorrow. Their hearts were the kindest but they felt the most pain. I also understood the power of giving and spreading some goodness in this huge world. Small acts of kindness do matter. They make you happy and, sometimes even can put a smile on a face that has forgotten to smile, help return the lost glitter in the beautiful eyes and may even heal the hearts that are broken. 

Mother and I teach Mahnoor and Azaad at home to help them live a better life. Azaad found a best friend in Nadir – my little brother and Mahnoor got the affection and care from me as a big sister. Aunt Nadia runs the house now by sewing clothes for the neighborhood. It is still difficult but is better than begging. A small act of kindness, an open heart and spirit to spread goodness saved a family’s honor.

 

 

 


© Copyright 2018 I. Shah. All rights reserved.