Behind gory scenes

 Devendra Gautam

Between a monastery and a tourist bus station in the tourist hotspot of Swayambhu, a faint, young girl aged about eight years or so sits on a damp road one cold February morning, with a baby on her lap and an almost empty steel dish in front of her. She throws a look at every passing human being, perhaps expecting them to give some money.  Similar sights come a-haunting in the metropolis every day, giving a milling humanity going about their respective rat races shocks one too many.  At the foot of Swayambhu sit a couple of people, asking passersby for generosity.   In the middle of the road close by Keshar Mahal at Durbarmarg, a dish-wielding, middle-aged woman carefully navigates vehicles awaiting the green light, expecting the humanity on wheels to open its purse strings for her and her dependants. Along the same busy stretch, this sapien has also encountered a fellow in his makeshift vehicle (a cart) going about his job along with another guy proudly sporting a Nepali cap in the same profession. In and around the crowded streets of New Road, one gets to see gorier spectacles like an amputee in bandages asking members of fellow humanity for help, silently, along with a woman with a baby barely alive. Once in a while, every nook and cranny of this city gets to meet visually-impaired singers crooning with fond hope of getting their messages across and making some money to live a little better.  An entire neighbourhood weeps and bleeds inside when a group or two comes visiting, asking for help to facilitate the treatment of a young, old, middle-aged kidney patient or a cancer patient. Ditto with victims of flood, landslides and fires, who come with recommendation letters from respective municipalities or rural municipalities, genuine or otherwise.  At least part of that neighbourhood sighs deep inside, aware that deep inside, it does not have a penny or two to help the helpless lot. As for the affluent section, it is too comfortable in its citadels to bother about the plight of a wailing humanity outside its gates. Thank heavens that it does not let out its hounds after the humanity in need.  Then come the operators of self-styled, small or big time care homes, with elan. By the way, the way they make their presence felt at your gate can make you go mad. Irritated, when you look out to have a look at the ramrod that just rammed at your gate and left your inner peace in pieces, you often come across smiles, cosmetic or otherwise, and a plea for help for some or the other institution providing for a certain number of people.  Perhaps they are providing for the said number of people, perhaps they are not and leading a life of pleasure and plenty at the expense of hapless humanity. Whose task is it to check as to what they are exactly doing from the proceeds collected by going around every neighbourhood in the name of their ‘care homes’, of which there seems to be no dearth in this big city? By the way, are our government authorities aware of the above-listed activities? If yes, what are they doing to address the situation? Taxpayers pay this state a considerable sum, so is the onus not on the state to spend on social welfare instead of having to make destitute citizens go from door to door asking for help?  Coming across some of the gorier scenes described above, one wonders if it is the work of some crime syndicates.  Imagine criminal gangs abducting people, dismembering them, throwing them onto the streets and living off their earnings by providing a morsel to keep the poor people going somehow.  Could such gangs be operating behind the curtain? Sends a chill down your spine imagining how far and wide their tentacles may have spread, doesn’t it? Our law enforcement authorities should conduct a serious investigation into the gory scenes to unearth the deep-entrenched facts. Do watch, like, comment, subscribe: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viUVRFI7UV8