Sonu Sood stands strong for people during COVID

Who were they, that, their plight unsettled your emotion, melted your heart and arouse your conscience?

You came to their rescue when they needed the most.

You wiped out their tears when no hand came forward.

You gave them hope  when they had lost all.

You were compassionate to them when compassion was a distant dream.

You gave them confidence when they had none.

 You treated them as human beings when they were wandering like stray animals.

You rekindled their spirit when that was already extinguished.

Who were they, that, their plight unsettled your emotion, melted your heart and arouse your conscience?

Where did you find them?

Rather, where do you find them?

They were there, everywhere.

They are there, everywhere.

They will be there, everywhere.

Everywhere, holding all of us in tight embrace with expectant eyes begging a bit of our sympathy. They remain integral to us from our first breath to last, yet, sadly we ignore them.

You find their bones broken, crushed, pulverized, blown and scattered away all over the places; wherever eyes go; by the wind of progress that they bring.

 You find their blood sucked, drained, thinned and mingled with the flow of every development that mankind has made so far. You find their flesh cut, squeezed, pulped and mixed with soil adding fertility. You feel their hot sigh adding fragrance of toil and endurance to the air we breath. It is they, who build civilizations, push, pull and change it’s direction whenever needed, to attend it’s zenith —it is they, who crush and destroy mighty kings and emperors, dictators and despots and civilizations even when they become tyrant, despot, static and rot from within, — it is they, on whose toil and tears, flesh and blood, mankind has progressed from the use of toes in the past to use of tips today.

Who are they?

Intellectuals (!) (or parasites?)sitting inside the safe confines of their air-conditioned drawing rooms have given them; all of them; a common designation, accorded a common social status,

“ Labourers”.

Many of them “migrant labourers”

“Migrant” ?

“Yes, no home! no address !!   A wandering lot!!!

Hence no record exists of their existence with the Government. Their numbers never counted. Not known.

The faceless, identity less majority. In millions.

Majority?

In millions??

Yes, yet ignored, despised, neglected, pitted upon, scorned, looked down for being faceless.

The hapless millions.

A story of their hope and frustrations,

a story of their struggle and defeat ,

a story of their aspirations and dejections,

a story of their joy and sorrows,

a story of their laughter and tears.

Yet, a story of their indomitable spirits, a story of their courage, a story of their resilience and resolute, a story of their determination to move forward snapping all fetters that had been their constant companion since ages.

This is the story of one of them.

Most humbly dedicated to you.