Dr Molly, while visiting her daughter, encountered a concerning incident. She questions the responsibility of parents and caretakers to ensure their child’s safety and well-being, an exclusive for Different Truths.
Long interludes frequently separate my visits to my daughter at Aparna Cyber Zone Nalla Gandla; most of the time, I am in Kerala, my native green land and the so-called “God’s own country.”
It has been almost a year since I have been here.
Open spaces spread as the crimson portion of the sky filled the horizons.
Every time, I enjoy taking long, leisurely strolls along the well-designed, tree-lined boulevards. Open spaces spread as the crimson portion of the sky filled the horizons; the moon sneakily peered through the clouds, and a gentle breeze drifted in whispering murmurs from the nearby lakeside and the unpopulated area outside this large compound.
I feel myself communicating with this universe, with the flowering plants on both sides waving and spreading the fragrance.
Together, we breathe in and breathe out. Soulful moments of my sojourn here. The last time I was out walking, I saw a young person taking an elderly, ill man on rounds through these bye lanes. attendant. The young chap was too busy with his mobile when the pram negotiated bumps; he seldom noticed that the already hanging head of that gentle elder was taking, jolted, and jerked violently.
I stopped there and reprimanded the young attendant to be more careful…
I stopped there, reprimanded the young attendant to be more careful and wondered how that aged, ailing soul was entrusted to those irresponsible hands. Maybe that soul had taken its eternal abode. This time, I no longer encountered that kind of scenario. But I noticed something worse one day.
I was returning. In the opposite direction, a maid was taking a baby (maybe one-year-old) in a pram. And the elder child (three or four years old) was walking ahead. Suddenly, I heard a fall and the heart-rending cry of the little one. I looked back.
The pram fell sideways, and the baby was on the ground.
The pram fell sideways, and the baby was on the ground. Did she not secure the safety belt’s buckle properly? Hasn’t she noticed the bump on the way, far engrossed in her world? His head has hit, and his cry is a desperate cry of pain.
The woman grabbed the baby. She looked around to see if anyone had seen it, and she tried hard to pacify him. He did not stop crying.
It was too late for me to reach them. She had straightened the pram and moved off.
It was too late for me to reach them. She had straightened the pram and moved off. The child did not stop crying; she played tantrums to amuse and distract the child and made the elder one take on an elephant position and crawl, carrying the small one on the back. What all acts and tactics! The cry of the child had not stopped. Maybe the pain persisted.
It was still in the air when they crossed the corner quickly to disappear.
Did the parents know what was happening to the little ones when they left them totally at the mercy of these rash Ayahs? I felt guilty; I should have walked all that way back to give her a piece of my mind. But what use? Only the vigilance of the parents matters.
Unlike any other evening walks, I was weary in my body and mind when I returned.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
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