I was travelling with my brother to my office the other day. Ahead of us, honking its way slowly through the traffic, was moving a water tanker. Water was dripping from a pipe hanging at its rear end. The dripping water had left a squiggly trail of the water tanker's path. "Possibly the worst escape vehicle after committing a crime!" I thought to myself.
Some time later, as I was filling a cup of water in the pantry at my office, I remembered a story I had heard from my brother a week ago.
It had been about a young African girl of fifteen. She had belonged to a region of Africa where water is so scarce that bath is a luxury and thirst is a crime. The daily supply of water in the girl's home had been one bucketful, which the girl had had to fetch from a small water reservoir situated a-two-hour-long-walk away from her home. One day, the girl who had left her home in the morning to fetch water had not returned. By evening, the girl's family had set out in search of her and at some distance from the water reservoir, they had found her body hanging from a tree. After bringing the girl's body down from the tree, her family had also found something else a few hundred meters from the tree. It had been the girl's broken bucket.
After I remembered the story, I could not bring about myself to drink the cup of water I had filled. I kept staring at it for some time thinking about the water tanker I had seen in the morning. I could hear the water drops dripping from the pipe at the tanker's rear end.
I then slowly lifted the cup of water to my mouth and drank water from it. As the cup turned empty, tears rolled down my cheeks.
Some time later, as I was filling a cup of water in the pantry at my office, I remembered a story I had heard from my brother a week ago.
It had been about a young African girl of fifteen. She had belonged to a region of Africa where water is so scarce that bath is a luxury and thirst is a crime. The daily supply of water in the girl's home had been one bucketful, which the girl had had to fetch from a small water reservoir situated a-two-hour-long-walk away from her home. One day, the girl who had left her home in the morning to fetch water had not returned. By evening, the girl's family had set out in search of her and at some distance from the water reservoir, they had found her body hanging from a tree. After bringing the girl's body down from the tree, her family had also found something else a few hundred meters from the tree. It had been the girl's broken bucket.
After I remembered the story, I could not bring about myself to drink the cup of water I had filled. I kept staring at it for some time thinking about the water tanker I had seen in the morning. I could hear the water drops dripping from the pipe at the tanker's rear end.
I then slowly lifted the cup of water to my mouth and drank water from it. As the cup turned empty, tears rolled down my cheeks.
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