Tuesday, 22 October 2013

Can Acid Rain corrode only the monument of love; Taj Mahal


No matter how many times I splashed water; burnt scars on my face refused to get budged. The mirror reflects my mangled face half heartedly. Singed hair no longer covers my despondent face and hope.
A young boy of 12 years raced through the streets with his heart outpacing him. The appalled look on his face spoke of unspeakable.  “Mom you were right, Frankenstein was for real. I just met one down the alley next to that brick house”. “Don’t talk like that, they are our new neighbors”.  I was accustomed to such outrageous remarks.
It was a pleasant October morning 6:30 a.m., wafting breeze was caressing my tufts of hair. The lyrical trilling of the birds was music to my ears. The sun was soaked in glistening lava. I was breathing quantum of life. My bus stop was teeming with life, bustling with school kids accompanied by their harried parents. Surprisingly I become nostalgic everyday at the same time.  I strained my eyes to spot my ramshackle bus, to my dismay it was nowhere to be seen.  I could see a toddler tugging onto my shirt and subsequently onto my heart. She offered a chewed piece of her candy to me, as she could nibble it no more.  I closed my eyes and thanked God for this blissful life.
It had started raining; I could feel drops of dew on my forehead. It was sublime. Soon those elixir drops started to burn, gosh, I stretched my right hand to wipe beads of drops. To my horror, the skin on my fingers peeled off. My forehead was in excruciating pain.
“Water, water ……someone please throw water on me, help me please” I was wailing in pain. There came a puddle of splash to my rescue… or to my corrosion. Someone had thrown something diabolical…… it was acid. Acid penetrated my eyes, felt as if barbed wires had penetrated them. My pupil (black in color) became of the same color as that of cornea (white in color). I just couldn’t see any more. I didn’t know what was happening. “ Mumaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”, I shouted for help and somehow my mother was oblivious to my hapless cries. She would always come to my rescue, I didn’t know what happened this time, what took her so long. My face was burning; I could smell fumes and despair. My skin was peeling off, my bones protruding and peeking from the edges. The pain was excruciating, every fiber in my soul shrieked for mercy. I lost hope and consciousness. I woke up to see blurred images of sobbing mom and shattered father in a gloomy hospital.
I felt shackled; I stretched my fingers to feel my face and all I could feel was rolls of bandage. Wish those bandage always enveloped my face; they would have concealed the horrifying truth of my mangled face. A worker casually walked in with a bottle of acid in his hand; he was about to pour it in washroom adjoining to my bed. I shouted at the top of my voice “Please don’t throw acid on me, I can’t take this pain anymore” and fell at his feet pleadingly.

The bottle of venomous acid which can corrode anyone’s life at a lightening pace is still easily available. Though the laws have been recently promulgated; however their implementation is still a distant dream Have you ever thought that the grudges that you harbor are corrosive and acidic in nature. So next time you see an acid attack victim; remember that she too is a part of your family and all she needs is your love and attention. ACID needs to be redefined as Affectionate, Caring, Impassioned and Desire to help.

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