They walk alongside each other, prodded by the desire to beat the odds – Withering hearts, weary feet, empty stomachs, but worse of all, dying hope. It all began as a journey to a better place, a safe place where we could “ rest and be peaceful”, for this is no longer a place we could call home; to tide away the impending loom, away from the jaws of death. Gathering their frugal possessions, precious children perched in their arms, they began the long arduous trudge. The heat beating down upon the brow, endless miles of tar scorching the sole, thoughts of why this was happening, and the lost cry to a hidden God. But they marched on. Some sang lullabies as they cradled their young ones, and still others hummed their folk songs. They stopped as they felt the hunger bite, looking around for a savior or an angel who would want to fill their plate, at least the children’s. All was not lost as the occasional good Samaritan broke all norms and came close, lending a helping hand, and feeding the Dejected.
They all waited for their turn, huddled in the twilight. “I know it is a long walk, but can we not rest a while?” a fatigued child asked her disheartened Father. Another dark night and no sign of reprieve. But we shall survive, thought the little girl’s Mother.
“Since there’s no transport available, we decided to walk all the way.”