CONTINUED FROM THE PREVIOUS MAIL..............
I was in a fix. I looked at the time, where it showed only ten
minutes for the mass to begin, and moreover, when i looked at her
drenched body, the result of the unexpected rain this christmas, i
thought of the condition my car would be in if i took them in
it.
I ran back into my room, took a packet of 1000 rupees and gave it
to her for she would need it for the hospital expenses. I told
her to go to the hospital herself by walk as it was only a
kilometer away, and on my way back i would definetely drop by the
hospital to bring them back.(Little did i realise then, how could
a weak little lady travel all the way to the hospital in the
middle of the night, on a rainy day with her two children)
However, i enjoyed my mass and the programmes thereafter, and
remembered on time, my promise to Radha to pick her up. Eager to
do the good deed of the day, i rushed to the hospital.
Therin i saw Radha, clutching her little one in her arms and the
yound child clinging to her. Too afraid to speak, i drew near and
looked at the lifeless form of the babe. Radha was too shocked to
even cry.
I gathered them all together and dropped them to their house
bought some milk and biscuits for the mother and the daughter and
came back to my own house. That night sleep eluded me. The form
of Radha stretched out on the hospital floor, the tear drained
face and the clinging hild came back to me thus disturbing my
sleep.
The next days news in the newspaper were of Radha comitting
suicide in her house by consuming poion thereafter sharing it with
her 5 year old Rekha.
Finally giving up any hopes of sleep, i went to my painting board
and painted that pathetic sight on my canvas and submitted to the
art gallery; much to the appreciation of everyone. The touching
sight of the lonely widow, with the dying child in her arms, the
untold tears and agony captured in the painting won me the gold
medal during the exhibition.
As i glanced back at my medal once again, now shining brightly at
the suns rays, mind and heart filled with guilt at my un
acceptance to help, I looked back at the painting once again,
(Which i had again bought from the art gallery), i had the
experience of crucifying Jesus on the cross, and that too on a
christmas day.
I remembered how Radha had fallen to my feet begging me to take
her child to the hospital. Perhaps i could have still saved the
child, if only i were more willing.
The mother clutching helplessly at the lifeless child in her arms
seemed to remind me of mother mary carrying the dead form of Jesus
in her arms.
YES! hOW COULD I EVER FORGET; I HAD CRUCIFIED JESUS ON THE DAY OF
HIS BIRTH.
LOVE,
ANITA,
KUWAIT
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