India

"DEDICATED TO THE MTV BRIGADE YOUTH OF TODAY'S YOUNGISTAN"

PART I



HI I AM ABHILASH KANE, and my friends call me ABEL .I am a soft engineer working in the hippest place in India –Pune.

My head is spinning since today morning. I tried to get up at 8 but yesterdays “engagements” did’t allow me to leave my bed till 10. The last week was a pathetic one. A project which boss wanted me to complete by weekend else “it will be tough for me”. My mind said “Go to hell” but my mouth uttered “Yes sir”. I felt like telling him, sir with a fatty wife and a slim secretary u may like to be in office for 15 hours but please we are still bachelors with some of our life still left to live. And then who should explain him that my life has gone Topsy turvy since “she” told me ”our relationship has lost its meaning., its no more happening.” I was shocked but then nobody can solve this mystery called” love”.

Her name was Deepti.We met about 3 years back; I was coming back from Delhi, elated to find a job in Pune the city of generation X. Life would be great fun there, all my fiends working in Pune used to tell me great stories about that place. What a wonderful life, I will surely squeeze every moment of my life there. After all youth comes only once in lifetime and one should not waste it. Like all the youngsters I checked the passengers’ reservation list before boarding the train, with the hope that at least now God would answer my prayers. But one of my friends told me that railway software only doesn’t allow M and F seats nearby, if they are in age group of 20 to 30. I cursed the person who made that software. But fate has its own way to unite one thirsty soul with another. A uncle came and requested me to exchange the seat; I reluctantly agreed for the side upper birth but wow it was the day I found the golden key to the door of heaven. With her first looks I knew she is the one (though I nearly feel the same thing with every beautiful girl). It was a dream come true but I was shy even to say a “hi” to her. She was lost in a book with a calm smile on her lips, pink gloss on her fair cheeks and her side locks wavering on her temple. I was lost. I felt I was saying to her “Oh dear how my soul had been looking for you since centuries. We are the ones made for each other”, and all other things lovely couples say in Hollywood movies. But then I found it was only my mind which was speaking, again without any words from my mouth. But as if she heard it she gave me a glimpse and life stopped for me forever. I gave her a smile but she went back to her book and my castle dream was shattered. That is the problem with every love story; it swings your mood any moment. Well I decided its now or never. I took out a book suited for the purpose and sat next to her. 15 years in a boy boarding school had made me incapable of interacting with girls. Though I was a cool handsome hunk suited for any beautiful girl but it was the first step which was stopping me from my goal. I was staring at the book thinking all the time what to ask and what to say. Finally I mustered all courage and asked “Mam please May I know the time” she looked at me with those beautiful eyes and replied “you are wearing a watch”. And I king of the fools instantly replied “oh ya I forgot!” But though I am a tube light but at least not a fuse light. After sometime I replied again “actually it is not working”. but definitely she must have faced these situations many times before as came her instant reply,”oh really let me have a look” and she took my hand in hers. “What a soft touch “. I became dumb and mute till she smiled again and said “No sir it is working properly”. Well I was ready with the answer “oh it started working just now again’ and as if it corrected also itself automatically. But the purpose had been solved by then. The ice had broken between us and though with some foolish acts I was able to catch her attention, my sole purpose at that moment in my life. We chatted throughout the journey night and day enjoying each moment and when finally she told me she was also going to Pune for a job I knew it was just a starting

The ringing of alarm bell brought me back to my present life. How time flies away. Life is a like mountain stream, with turns and twists. How u focus to win over some people and later realize it was a wasteful exercise. But then life is nothing but longing for some goals. It is not the end which matters but the beautiful way. And then the memories are always there to make u feel happy and sometimes sad.

Finally we met, and as the day approached to an end I knew cupid’s arrow had struck me. I asked her for a parting kiss and she obliged. Life changed for me forever after that. Life was a full celebration and weekends were heaven. Parties, pubs, disc, long drives, movies, with Deepti I was really freaking out lives every moment. She was my only aim, my sole purpose to live. We were so similar and I buried all the dissimilarities which existed. My all friends used to say I had changed. May be after all I was in love.

But I really wonder if any story of life really has a happy ending. We were sailing on a smooth yatch of life, my salary and father’s money was meeting all my big expenses. Though I was questioned about the Rs 20,000 expenditure in a single day I always had some excuse and then they were actually never worried. “After all a mini honeymoon in Khandala will cost at least that”. And as all good things come to an end so did our relationship. One day thinking that we are on such a good terms I proposed to her for marriage and she laughed like the way she used to laugh on my jokes during early years of our affair. I was taken aback and asked what happened. She giggled and replied very calmly “this is not the time to get married I have a career ahead I want to go to States and become something Big in life”. On my insistence that I will wait for her, I will go along with her, she finally told me bluntly “Listen you are a good friend of mine but you are not that MTM – marriage type material” or in other words I was a time pass. She later told me that she wanted to marry some business tycoon not some small software engineer. I tried to detach from her but the more I tried more miserable I felt. I was addicted to her I tried to convince her that I will always keep her happy but all that was a waste as she had made up her mind. I tried to reason -I had spent a big 95, 000 on her alone and she replied “that shows ur cheap mentality, we spent it together for our enjoyment” though she never considered all the expensive gifts I gave her, the mobile connection I gave her, the dresses, the movies and thousands of other things which I spent on “her” for “our enjoyment”.

I tried to start a new relationship of friendship with her but I knew she has found “someone else” and last week she finally told me about her decision to walk out of the relationship” it is over”. I was left alone in this world with no one to share my joys, my sorrows ,my life. I felt my soul has left me forever.


After a hectic work schedule I wanted a nice weekend break. I was feeling very lonely spending my nights sipping vodka- my sole companion in my troubled times. I rang up Sudhir my only friend and requested him to come but he was already busy with his girlfriend. But being a good friend he agreed to give his precious 1 hour to me too and he appeared at sharp five. He knew everything about me, my relationships, and my life. His first question was, “what happened dude pyar ke side effects”. I told him the story in short and got ready to listen to his motivational talks, “Buddy life is to be lived fully, enjoy each and every moment of it. Girls come and go but youth remains with u for a very brief time. Don’t waste it pondering over one girl go out and make merry, hang out, party, enjoy. Life is a wine drink every sip of it. Ok! I will leave now have a happy weekend” and he left the same way as he came. But I felt some josh some enthusiasm though vague but it came. I tried to convince my mind and my reluctant body finally obeyed.

I looked with some despise towards my 25 lakh Suzuki as it reminded me of “her”. But there was no other option and so I zoomed on towards the city. I sat down on the stairs of a movie hall wondering what such a huge crowd is doing here. “Are they enjoying at my misery”. Couples with hand in hand looking at other guys and gals. gals with arrogant looks as if some diva has landed on earth. Guys in stupid looks thinking themselves to be super cool. I was feeling frustrated. Why life can’t proceed smoothly why we have to convince others, live on others terms, act on rules made by others. . What is the use of this life in which even enjoyment is defined by others? Where the hell is my freedom? the freedom to say whatever I want . The freedom to laugh, the freedom to cry, the freedom to live!!
But I found no reply only blank faces with fake smiles moving like machines whose life is already defined by others. Who enjoy becoz others say this is enjoyment, who cant laugh becoz it will be stupid, who cant cry in public becoz it will be shameful who cant live on their own terms becoz they are the part of this well defined hypocritical society.

I gave up. I went to a pub; dark and crowded had two drinks and felt little better. After that I passed a running glance at the crowd when my eyes met with a gal already staring at me. With her short dress and smooth curves she was really stunning; I couldn't’t control passing a smile to her. She responded with a smile and I got up from my seat. As I approached, her grin was an invitation. I started with the same old trick “I have seen u somewhere.” She replied “ya even I have seen u some where but cant recall”. I don’t know from where in my body came the remark “I am lying”. But she controlled the situation with her charismatic smile”even I am lying; we are meeting for the first time”. I knew the next step”anyways I am I AM ABHILASH KANE, and my friends call me ABEL”


PART II


Namaskar my name is ABHILASH KANE my friends call me kane{its not cane its cande a surname of mrathis}. I am a farmer working in Vidharba some distance away from Pune.

My head is spinning since today morning and I don’t know what to do. I tried to get up from my bed but my high fever didn’t allow me to do so. Local viadya has written some medicines yesterday but who will bring it and from where. Life was not always like that it was a bad of roses just few years back with some obstacles to cross but now it is left like a parched land full of only cactus.It happened last week; I suspected it to come soon but so soon?

Our forefathers used to live in marathwada with a large piece of land we had a simple but happy life, a small farmland which met all our requirements. I used to go to school and studied till 6th there when one fine day my father came and told my mother we will have to shift, because some “Sethji” is building some SEZ there. There were thousand questions in our mind but none were answered just a little money given, which we were told is the market value of that land. My father protested that actual cost is 5 times more of that price but he just got some beating from “Sethjis” goons and state police. Since that day he became very quiet and from that day started our life long struggle to survive.

We shifted to Vidharba ,my father told me this is the land of cotton which will soon make us rich again and then will be happy again. But there I found “her”-The girl of my dreams.

Her name was Deepti and she was my neighbour. With nothing else to do in life I was sitting outside my house on a pyol when I saw this diva in red ghagra and choli. I couldn’t move my eyes from her. She suddenly turned and saw me staring her. She gave me an angry stare and ran away inside her house. Next day I met her on the road to farm. i immediately jumped in front of her and apologized. She kept her eyes low and never once looked at me. I said sorry again and told her” I will never disturb u again” as I started moving she raised her eyes and was dumbstruck. She blushed and moved away saying,”U can disturb me again”. The day changed my life and brought a new storm in my life. I felt a new surge of energy in my body capable of winning anything and anyone. I started planning ways of winning her. With no school beyond fifth available nearby I started helping my father. But it was a difficult and tedious exercise- Long hours of hard work and toil in hot sun, heavy rains and bitter cold. The only escape in the full exercise were some moments I used to share on my way to farm with her . my body used to ache badly but her thoughts used to remove all my pain. My bruises used to burn but her thoughts used to act like a balm. I had only one aim in life to earn a lot of money from cotton and then to ask for her hand from her father.

My father used to tell me about things which I never wanted to hear and was not concerned a bit , never kknkowing these things will take all my interest. He told me one day about his decision to borrow 95000 from the local moneylender. No bank was ready to give us the loan as we had no official documents claiming us to be the resident of that place . he happily told me and my mai that we will put 40000 for farming and rest for the marriage of our two daughters. I felt a thrill on haring the word marriage “one day I will also marry Deepti”. But my Ma was sad and when I asked the reason she told me that “didi” has told her not to borrow any money from local moneylender. I used to hate didi she was a pessimist finding fault with each and everything. She used to tell us about all tales full with horror and sadness. She came to the village from someplace called Pune to educate the poor but on seeing the village conditions she took up the cause of poor and downtrodden. She used to say don’t grow cotton as it will doom u. when I asked her why she gave some stupid reasons that government has removed import duty from cotton under WTO pressure and the cost of cotton in local market will be very low. She used to say don’t borrow from local baniya , he charges 50% interest rate but he was our only mai baap.but we all listened from one ear and never cared about it . Who is she to tell us that our future is bleak because our sarkar, under some American pressure, has signed some WTO agreement. I always thought she is some pessimist witch who hates us all and never want society to develop. Till one day I realized she was right but till then it was too late.

The transition from a student to a farmer was the end of what all I dreamt in life. Except one hope and hope is the rope which swings you through life. in those barren fields her thoughts were the greenery, in that hot sun she was the shade in that dry weather she was the rain. when I used to perspire she was the wind, when I was thirsty she was the water, when I was tired she was the energy and when I was depressed she was the hope to carry on till I get her hand. But for a poor man even hope is a luxury.

The rains were less and our harvest suffered but still we kept the hope. But as soon as the cotton reached market prices fell so sharply that we all were left clueless – the end of our only hope. Didi told us that it is due to the imported cotton from America. But how can few people sitting in ac rooms in Delhi can issue a fatwa which ends the life of thousands of poor toiling in hot sun. But this was our democratic country Bharat , sorry India. Deeptis father was the first one to commit suicide. Her brother was very young and worthless. Then one day evening she came running to our house. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes said everything. I was left numb. Her brother forcefully took her away and I was left cold and heartless. Next day I was told her brother had sold her to some Sethji in 2000 Rs . That was the last day I saw her and first day when I was alive without a soul.

I thought I should save her, but dead sinkers don’t jump in water to save life of others. Two days back my father, like many other farmers, also gave up. It took him just ten min after consuming a bottle of pesticide. After last rituals yesterday morning I was left alone with so many questions but no answer. Ladies were crying, gents were trying to console me,” everything will be all right, have faith in god”. Yes have faith in him after that is what ll religions teach. Saviour will come fine day. The kalki avtar , the judgment day is going to come soon. I wonder what more humans beastly passions God wants to sea to decide yes today is the judgment day. Why it doesn’t come today and relieve me of everything this life left without a life.Didi was the only one who said something different, “tomorrow Sethji will come and ask for your land for the SEZ project he is going to develop, but don’t give him a damn thing. He will give you peanuts for the land with actual value in lakhs. He will keep you always in debt and then next will be your sister, then your kidney and finally your life, so decide accordingly”. “Decide”, does that word exist in the dictionary of the poor? My fate was already sealed. My blank eyes were asking only two questions,” why the hell was I born on this earth and when will I die?”. But again there was no reply just some blank consolations, some suggestions to have faith in god and a long silence. I was wondering if even there is some Premchand left in this country to even think of people like us?

However the vultures of society are never later in their work. The Sethji appeared without delay, took my signature on paper saying I give him my 80,000 worth of land in just 20,000 Rs. Why I do it? To save my sister from reaching the brothels of Pune for some more time and to give me some more time before I became slave to Sethji. This time I wanted to use to decide if I should follow the path of my father. But for poor even death is not easy. From today morning I am becoming a bonded labour who will have to work in construction company of sethji for a IT city. I will have to work 10 hours a day in hot sun for 7 days a week with any work insurance, pension or anything. And if I raise my voice I will be kicked out the same day. In other words I am a slave form today.

I was lost in these thoughts when some body scolded me,” What are you thinking tell me your name”.

“Namaskar my name is ABHILASH KANE my friends call me Kane.”





PART III

It was the year of 1947 when our “Ma Bharat ” was married to a man who was the slave of British and this while our country was physically independent its soul was still a slave.
And when we thought situation would improve he married another woman called “India”.
This is a story of two step brothers: one the son of young, beautiful, smart India who is the desire of every rich luxurious woman. And another one of old downtrodden Bharat Ma whose is shattered and left to die in its villages. Will anyone rescue her or even her own son will desert her?

We are the new generation X of India. And as defined by someone in his profile in orkut:
Ąţţŗāçŧĩvę Īş Μŷ Fãĉë
▌Ċhãŗã¢téŗ Īş Μŷ G®éåT,
▌§wêêt Īş Μŷ §mïℓε,
▌Añd Üñïqûë Īş Μŷ §t¥ℓε !

We are the ones who want to break free ourselves from all the rules to live an independent life. We live in the moment caring shit about the future and past. Our only motto in life is to “ENJOY” be at any cost. We work hard and party harder. We are the cool, hot ,smart , trendy, jovial, funny, attractive, charming , lovely, beautiful, handsome, sexy and everything which makes us a perfect fun loving human being because finally what is the aim of life, but to be happy.

We are the ones who live in a dreamland even if it means miles away from “REAL INDIA”. So we live our life, in a country where the honor of our country depends on the six hit by our national hero Dhoni and not upon the jawan who gives up his life fighting the terrorist. We are the sons of Youngistan and not that damn shit Hindustan. Our country is marked by motorbikes, posh malls, hot girlfriends, cool dresses, video games and great nightlife. We hate that Hindustan with congested roads, dirty environment, and poverty stricken people.

We love to read The Times of India with its never ending discussions on sex and lifestyle, Mumbai times and Page 3 news and hate The Hindu with its confusing articles on world politics, labour problems and peoples misery .We like ‘Swaminomics’ who favours to cut the fiscal deficit even at the cost of increasing inflation, even though that means slow death for millions. But we hate articles by P. Sainath always describing rural poverty, indebtness, and poor’s problems. . Our favourite author is Shobha De, who aptly says,”India is passing through a golden age better then seen in the times of emperor Ashoka” and hate Arundhati Roy who describes our age as a age of darkness as more and more people are pushed into poverty and exploitation. We love to read Romantic novels, about the land of our wonderland and don’t want to hear about that non fictional stuff which keeps telling something called “truth about India”.

We love movies like Tashan , after all that’s describes our attitude but have never listened about “Chandini Bar” a story about that pathetic “others”. We love IPL with big shots and hot cheerleaders and hate our national game because it doesn’t have anything to look forward to.Our national heroes are no more Bhagat Singh who gave his life at 23 but Laxmi Mittal, who actually hardly lived in India and who spends millions in her daughter’s marriage. Our country is limited to metros because we don’t want to know about other India.

We live in a dreamy wonderland seeking for pleasure and enjoyment but the sad part is we never achieve it. We are strict followers of Mahatma Gandhi’s 3 monkeys: don’t see bad things, don’t listen to bad things and don’t say bad things. So we never look at real India and never listen to anyone who speaks about real India and never say anything about real India. We keep longing for something which should give us satisfaction but that never gets satisfied. And then we decide to leave this shit place –Hindustan, “about which nothing can be done”, and start on a journey for my “American Dream” again a place of new dreams.

From the day we are born we are focused on self, others don’t just click us. We can spend thousands for a party but we don’t have enough to donate for an orphanage. We can spend thousands on our trendy clothes but we are poor to give even a piece to a downtrodden shivering in bitter cold. We can spend hundreds on a single hangout but can’t give 1 rupee to the poor beggar. We never argue in a salon even if he charges us hundreds more but argue for 5 rupees with a rickshaw puller, “who is trying to cheat us”. Our telephone bill every month is in thousands but our moral bill is zero. We can spend millions on cosmetics but can’t give food to a poor child.

Why should we? Why the damn should we be bothered. If they are poor that is their problem. If they are prostitutes that is because they don’t want to work, if they are child labor that is because their parents don’t want to teach them. If they are dying it’s their mistake they don’t just work hard.

See us the hardest working beings on this mother earth , working long hours in an AC room, see that poor farmer he works so less on that farm field that is why his crop fails. See us, we are so intelligent to develop new things every day.See those idiot farmers using same age old techniques. Why the hell can’t they use modified techniques. See us enjoying only two days in a week, see that mill worker who keeps working day and night still earns nothing. The reason is simple we are intelligent and they are idiots or “WE were born rich and he was born poor.”

Ok I accept that “those chaps” are in pathetic condition but then I am not responsible for it. I have thousands of my own problems to damn care about those filthy un human creatures crawling in slums. Since the day I was born I was worried about my toys my cartoon movies, in my adolescence about my first love and action movies, in my school about my bright career, in college about my job, when young about my love affairs , about my girlfriends about my looks then about a better job then about money, then about marriage, then about family, then about my living status, then about my children, then about my children’s career, then their job, then their marriages, then about retirement and then about my pujas to give me a much better life then this damn shit life full of worries which God gave me this time

But sometimes I wonder will I ever have courage to face the reality, to stand against injustice, to help others, to stand against odds. Or may be the easier way is to take your eyes away, to live in a Trans state in our dreamland where all luxuries are there but no satisfaction, where all pleasures are there but no happiness, where I can see but can’t observe, where I can hear but cannot listen, where my body is alive but my soul is dead!!!



PART IV



Now let us listen to the son of the old suffering Bharat Mata.
I don’t know why the hell I was born, out of God’s grace or to suffer for my previous births? Or because my parents like a normal human being had physical desires, but being hand to mouth had no money to buy contraceptives. So I came to this earth without any thought without any motive without any future. Then it was about my upbringing. Either my father was killed in some religious, caste, land or political war or died of some natural cause, as he never had money for his treatment. Or he ran away or committed suicide, as in India every 30 seconds 1 farmer commits suicide with a official figure of 112,000 farmers since 1993. Or he was killed in some police firing while protesting against his hard life or kidnapped by some authorities on “some suspicion.” Then about my mother. She loved me like any other mother, as even poverty can’t kill normal human emotions. But that was the case in case she survived against all odds, as 1.17 lakh India’s women die in childbirth every year. Or she died mysteriously, as India has maximum number of malnourished women. or she was raped as she belonged to a lower class, or some different religion or to some different party or as a ruling to revenge a land dispute.

Then the But even if they were alive it would have made little difference. My father would be either busy in his farmland or as a construction worker or trying anyting to get enough food to feed us two times a day. My mother would be traveling kilometers to fetch water which would be something like drinking water or wood to cook. Notwithstanding that she would be supporting my father in outside work too, and then I was just left to one of my elder sister. Thus both of u with a doomed childhood would be heading for a dark future.

We are supposed to be sub human. And what I wonder is even God supports the rich and not the poor. While people who do all sorts of misdeeds become richer day by day while poor lives his entire life fighting not only human injustice but nature’s wrath also. The hot sun burns only us, we die of scorching heat. We are the ones decorating the newspaper with little news on a side,”50 die in Orissa because of sun stroke” and people just turn the page after reading this line as they know poor’s fate is to die only. Come floods and dams water is turned to save 1 city and to drown thousands of villages. Damn gates are opened to save the elite with the livelihood of poor. One flood is enough to make us start life from scratch. Come winters and we are open to nature’s misery again. And when a rich person’s child ask of a poor child lying on road in damn cold weather without a cloth in his body his father remarks , don’t worry he is used to it. What about you sir?

But this is just the beginning, because more then mother nature it is our brothers in big office to whom we belong. Their one decision deprives us of everything. One fine day they decide to make a big dam on a river side and thousands of poor are deprived of everything, from their house to their agricultural land. Not to wonder “the temples of modern India” have evacuated a figure of not less the 26 million people from their land. Everything in this world is to serve the rich be it land, resources or even we poor. While we serve them as cheap labour, protect them as peons or do their household jobs they always find us cheating them. What about you sir? They can easily kick us look down upon us and throw us away from their place. To make their cities beautiful they use bulldozers to crush slums, which are actually our homes. But even this doesn’t satisfy their never handing thirst for more and more profit. They are intelligent practical people. So the whole world is at their mercy. They feel we destroy environment so they remove us from our forests, they feel we are useless so they put a ban on fishing they feel we are polluting cities so they ban our factories. But even if we stay away they can’t leave us, so they remove us to start mining, to make big factories and then the ultimate show of their power and wealth- the SEZs. Millions of us are removed to make pleasure villas for rich with all luxuries at one place where poor people don’t “disturb” them. As they hate beggars lying on the road, the sick dying on pavements, the poor sleeping on pavements or the common folk around them. They hate us despise us, want to remain away from. And thus on the name of our development we are deprived of our basic livelihood.


But who is to be blamed for our pathetic state? The rich, the capitalists, the government policies or we ourselves. They all will blame it on us, and that’s the easiest thing for them to do. The media is in their hands, the power is in their hands and means are in their hands. We have nothing but ourselves to speak our story. They held us responsible for overpopulation but where are the government hospitals, where is the money to buy contraceptives? And this is one of the few pleasures we can have in our life. And where is the education ?

Then they blame that we don’t want to study. I definitely want to study. Ask any child and he will definitely like to study. But while rich have schools with posh buildings, clean uniforms and laptops at their disposal poor don’t have even rooms and books. Where are the teachers in government schools? Where is the money to buy the books? Where are the schools? Where is the time left for poor kids who after working 15 hours as a child labour keep working in their home? Where is the respite from this treacherous life to keep the enthusiasm of studying alive?

They blame that we are lazy who don’t want to work hard.Have we become lazy just after our governments new economic policy? And we invite those”hard working people” to come and work just one day to work at a farmland or try their hands as a construction worker. We are lazy who have to travel 1 km even to shit. We, who have to stand in long queues for one bucket of water or those who travel kilometers just to fetch water for a day. We are lazy who cook food in chullhas, collect wood from distant land or keep making fuel from cow dung. We are lazy who wash things at a stream just few kilometers away , wash utensils with ash and take bath a large distant away. We are lazy who work in a farmland when the sun is at its peak , insects all around and nature at its worst. We are lazy, whose homes are taken away by winds or washed down by rains. We, who travel for 12 hours a day at sub human places with no rest at all. We who have to work till late evening till sun sets and then lie on a hard ground to sleep. We, who have no light sleep at the mercy of nature,. But “they” are not lazy who perform all their activities in few rooms provided with all luxuries with many workers and maids. They, who travel in luxury cars or bikes,. They, who are becoming obese as they don’t have motivation to “work out”,. They who enjoy late nights and hate to get up early. They who get tired watching TV for long hours or due to chatting non-stop. They, who party all night and work in AC rooms with movement of nothing but their fingers and chair at their desk. They are definteily the most hard working people in the whole world and should definitely hate slack people like us.

We are the socially neglected “other lot” of society who come to this earth to just survive and die. And I just made one mistake- I took birth in a poor man’s fmily