Flash streaming events…
I accidentally met a small boy in the iflex-gangothri junction nungambakkam, Chennai. I was inside a maruti-800 (has a better market than a Logan) which my friend owned. My friend, his girl and I were going towards broken bridge, Elliot’s beach. It was a really nice car except for the graffiti’s that were made by the stupid female over her guy’s car, and it was a compact one. It was quite warm by 5:00 P.M., and we were stuck in the signal. One boy with a silvery black face was selling a bunch of roses. He leaned over the front-right window. He was sweating; the sweat took the silvery powder that scaled over his face and the powder-laden sweat was hanging around the edge of his jaws. He looked as if he ran out of a cracker factory. He was wearing a shirt in which most of the buttons were gone; his shirt was colourful, lot of grease marks, rust marks, and silver powder, which covered most of his shirt. The roses held in the hands were gorgeous but the tender hands were not looking tender anymore. He had so much of wrinkles, most of his nails were worn out and few nails were not there. His face was longing for some sale to happen. My friend (that stupid female) fell for the emotional dram and asked how much the roses cost. She bought the whole bunch (who cares when she had her guy’s wallet) and with all the concern she started conversing with the boy. She asked for his whereabouts and what he was doing and all that. The traffic cleared and we went to the beach. Not surprisingly, she started talking about that boy. Her guy was on the edge of his nerves. Moreover, all of a sudden she wanted to see the boy, Uhh! How to describe this female? The next morning we went to that place, it was an auto rickshaw parts making factory.
We went into the remote part of pudhupetai. As soon as we entered we witnessed a guy in a lungi, (A multi coloured wear worn by men which allows free flow of air 
) who was shirtless with an alcoholic bottle abused my SHE friend for nothing, me and her guy giggled with all the pride as we were not able to do the same. The streets were covered with metal scraps, and scraps of screws, bolts and nuts were bobbing in the arbitrary parts of roads in pudhupetai. There was a loud claim by Miss Lady insane hey see there is a huge bike with so many pipes. I opened my mouth saying macha!!! He stopped the car immediately seeing the Honda CBX1000 6-cylinder motorcycle engine, WTF!! Shit, I did not have my camera or my mobile. Ye jujups (I always call her that way) that is not just a bike with pipes… it is a megalo machine that would blow down the trumpets of all the other bikes.
After a longing look, we went for fulfilling the hypothetical desires of Miss Jujups. At last we went to the so-called factory. There was plethora of iron parts lying outside the factory. Most of the place didn’t have the silver powder which the boy had on his face and shirt, but the guys in the factory had a colourful shirt, which had brown rust, greenish jelly grease which seemed as if it was squirted all over their shirts. We saw a tall gigantic dude of 45 or 50 years of age possibly whose whiskers we were never able to spot as his black dust-laden body never allowed us to differentiate. Miss Jujups went and said anna can we see this boy with so and so name and Blah! Blah! (Jujups never runs out of crappy names when she calls me…) both I and my friend were like he is uncle^2 to you and you called him anna? He let us in and it was a shit place… People have sprayed their urine at certain remote corners of the factory and they have expectorated their saliva along with pan and gutka. The place was too clumsy and noisy. We saw that kid He was working on metal recycling domain, for certain components, a lucrative venture which the workshop had with some stupid company. Then he worked in the polishing machine in a hazardous condition his hands became silvery black that would have given lot of stress to his palm and backbone because of the posture. He then did manual filing operation, which will make ones hands terrible, it will pain like hell. He has to do this for plenty of components, Gosh! Pity that kid Miss Jujups took the kid to the car and gave him some sandwiches and cakes (she has never made me one nor to her guy… hmpf!). Moreover, we never knew that she had brought these with her. One guy said… you can give him what he needs or more than his need for a day but he has to work over here to make it happen every other day. It was true…. she felt terrible and she was numb, the kid ate and went back to work. The hyper enthusiastic jujups became upset. We went back home.
I thought about this for the whole night. For sure she will not be able to feed him for his entire life.
He doesn’t have money to survive; he chose to work rather than schooling.
He didn’t have enough money for his livelihood; he went for a part-time.
He has enough money to suffice his basic needs; he doesn’t have peace.
He has enough energy to work; he will lose his health because of the same work.
He might have few to treat him; which doesn’t last long.
Child labour is prohibited by the government but it will not take care of him and his family.
Both medicine and treat will last for hours or few days; you have to go with your own damn life after that.
