A letter to you

Sympathy for homeless.

I never considered myself so privileged until I came to Chittagong, Bangladesh in 2014. I was so astonished to see homeless people nearly equivalent to the population of Bhutan. We Asians call them Beggars whereby Westerners address them as homeless people, which sound less offensive. Nobody aspires to be homeless/beggars; it is just that a bad fortune pushes them to be the one. My heart sinks every time I see poor children running around the street begging for food who otherwise should still be in cradle.

I feel completely helpless seeing them in the whirl of misery.  I could do nothing other them giving them few Takas when they come running to me. Every time I see them dozen of questions arise in my mind, “Why are these children put into such trial? What did they do in their lives because of which they have to undergo these? Is it because their parents didn’t work hard enough to raise them? Why did they bring these young ones to the world if they cannot feed them a meal in a day? Seriously there are no answers to these questions. I secretly curse God for being so bias to his creations. Since childhood I have been told that almighty decides every one’s fate and is never bias to his creations however at this point I find everything so contradictory.  

Winter in Chittagong is not as cold as in Bhutan however in the morning it gives quite a chill. Once in early morning, I was woken up suddenly by the cold morning breeze because it was raining outside. I cursed myself for not adding another blanket. Then I moved to the window to see the morning light. What I saw outside really made me think. A homeless mother along with her two infants was struggling so hard to sleep under a tree at the side of the road. Except the ground where they were sleeping, everywhere was wet. The mother covered one of the babies with the scarf, only possession she had and took another baby tight in her arms laid down to sleep. I felt so miserable seeing them because right before I was complaining myself about not having extra blanket where the homeless mother didn’t have one.

Finally the only answer that makes sense to my restless mind is that we are born with different fate. Buddhism explains this phenomenon well. We suffer due to our own actions (Karma). However we cannot rely on God for everything. We must do something to change their fate, bring them out of misery.