Reformed

My feet were trampling across an azure coloured pure marble floor, I held a china cup of coffee in my hand, I sat down on a pure leather couch, picked up the latest Sparks best-seller that I had purchased from Liberty a day before and adjusted myself to read it, while I was still absorbed in the book, I was startled out of my senses as the intercom rang, I asked my maid to check it, she informed me that some of my friends were at the door, I was shocked, what were they doing at my place so late? As the antique grandfather clock in our central lounge struck twelve, I was taken aback by the storm of my friends who had come to give me a birthday surprise, they had brought a huge chocolate fudge cake with them and of course tons of gift items, I had a wonderful time with them, little did I realize that soon everything in my life was about to change, my whole birthday was an unstoppable roller-coaster ride, from a cosy luncheon with my colleagues to a huge surprise party at my best friend’s villa, I got so many texts, calls, greetings, wishes, gifts that I could hardly contain my excitement when the party finally ended, I returned home that day late at night, wearing the latest cotton suit by Gul Ahmed with a diamond Rolex  and carrying a leather handbag of Prada  that seemed unnaturally heavy due to all the gifts that I had tucked in it, as I entered my home, I signalled my driver to place all of my gifts in my spare room, I sighed heavily, it was such a long and busy day that I felt tired to my bones, I hurriedly rushed upstairs, opened my room, went to the dressing table and saw a small package, as always my father had sent me a gift, these days he was in Belgium, on a business trip. I opened the little box and saw car keys inside, with it was a little note from him, butterflies aroused in my stomach as I rushed out of the bedroom and ran downstairs towards the garage, the servants had already opened the front door, I walked inside, I walked past the Land cruiser, past a long stream of Toyotas and Hondas, past my own one year old Lexus, I finally laid my eyes on it, the newest model of Mercedes Benz shone under the garage lights, it was tied up with a red  ribbon, I smiled a big smile as I moved towards it.

A few days after my birthday, I got a call from a friend of mine, she proclaimed that the situation in Nowshera was extremely pitiful, it had been a week since the floods, the people there were suffering greatly as they were not given enough food supplies and other commodities, as I sat on my Iranian rug, listening to her account, I was awfully clueless about what had actually transpired in Nowshera, yes I had heard that there was a flood but the fact that the situation was this incredibly horrible that the victims had no basic necessities was something that I was unaware of, my friend had pleaded to me to help her as she wanted to travel to Nowshera to provide the victims with some support, I was not quite sure about it, but then I thought it might be an adventure thereby I gave in, on an early Saturday morning, my friend, several of her acquaintances and I set out for Nowshera in my brand new Mercedes, a truck loaded with food supplies, clothes, medicines and other things followed us. We reached there by late afternoon, sometimes the most important things are the most toughest things to say, I cannot describe what I witnessed as I moved my car through that deteriorated land, the land was covered in wet mud, the plants had withered away, the houses had collapsed, I still remember as I bended my car to keep on the dry road, I saw a bunch of items that left me awestruck, there were toys floating in the muddy water, among them was a little cotton doll, ragged and torn apart at the edges, when I neared my car towards the mainland, my eyes rested on a massive crowd, what I saw seemed to reach in to my very soul and shake the core of my existence, there were a large number of people, smitten in mud, mire and blood, there clothes torn, their feet bare, their faces swollen due to injuries and their hands… I lost my bearings as I witnessed their misery, they were all eagerly, desperately and despairingly reaching out for the trucks of commodities, my friend nudged me out of my trance, I slowly drove towards them, as I neared them, I looked at their faces, these faces displayed such atrocity that I was shocked beyond words, I transfixed my gaze on their eyes, their eyes were beholding my million dollar Mercedes, those eyes were in grave agony, they looked at me pleadingly and yet accusingly, they seemed to display an enormous amount of anger, anger that comes with disappointment, anger that comes when you are wronged, when you have been starving for weeks and then you suddenly see food, but you are not sure whether you will be able to get it, these eyes displayed excruciating pain and suffering, these eyes made me feel poor, they made me look at myself.

We stayed in Nowshera for nearly twelve hours, we travelled various households, met with various victims, delivered them with food and clothing, provided them with some financial support and after an arduous journey, we travelled back home, but this time around, I was not in a condition to drive, not because I was physically drained but chiefly because my emotions had taken an awful leap and I was undergoing a sort of a depression, when we returned home, I could not feel normal, it was as if my world had turned upside down, in my twenty-five years of life, I had never witnessed poverty, I had always lived a highly luxurious life, for the first time in my life I had realized just how blind I had been, how indifferent I had been, I had led my life completely obscured to the reality, I faced myself in the mirror, my lips were brimmed with a Maybeline lipstick which was worth a hundred dollars, this red shade made me recall the blood that was smeared across the lips of a little girl in Nowshera, tears clouded my eyes, I went to my walk-in wardrobe and looked around at thousands of various dresses ranging from cashmere, lawn, cotton, silk, jean and the most expensive brands, suddenly I had a flashback of the victims who possessed just one or two pairs of clothes and these clothes too were partially ragged at places. I went down towards my kitchenette, opened the fridge, it was stacked with meat, sweets, beverages, vegetables and cartons of milk and juices, chocolates varying from Cadbury to Bueno and various varieties of food items. I recalled the moment when those victims had related to us the account of their suffering, of how they had remained food-less for an indefinite period of time, how they barely survived on parched bread and unhygienic water, how the parents fed their children and remained hungry themselves, how they ran after every truck carrying food supplies. I sat down on the cold marble floor of my kitchenette and recuperated. And then I thought its not just them, there are millions of people out there who do not have all that I have, they have to work their souls out to earn just enough so they could survive, they are labours, people working in factories, people working as servants in households, people working as janitors in office buildings, people running down streets with tabloids, little books, combs, toys, balloons, stationary items in their scarred hands, people coming towards the window of your Porsche and pleading with those tortured eyes for some help, you look at them, they may be very old or fragile, they may be handicapped either physically or mentally, they may be men or women, or they may be little boys or little girls, or they maybe women with little naked infants in their hands, they have runny noses, watery eyes, lines on their faces that display years of unbearable agony, they are emaciated, they are skinny, they are immobile, they are weak, they cant stand, they bend themselves, they ask for mercy, they pray for us, they pray for us kindly. And how many times it had been? That I overlooked these people, that I snubbed them off, that I scolded them and thwarted them, that I made them more miserable than they already were. For who am I with a pocket money that varies around two to three lakhs a week to help them, who am I with a household expanding over two acres to give shelter to them, it has always been easier for me to neglect them, to turn my gaze away from them, to go out with my friends and party till I had spent a large sum of money, money that could support an average household for a month, money that can actually make someone else’s life a better life, but no, for me, partying at Kolachi is more important, buying an I-phone 5 is more important, throwing thousands in a  3D cinema is more important, buying an original Gucci bag is more important, buying gold-plated curtains  is more important, having a birthday at PC is more important! For the first time in my life, my conscience pricked at me so intensely, I swallowed my tears, regained my composure and walked out of the kitchenette, strolled down the steep marble staircase and out on to the verandah, I have to get my priorities right, there are people out there who can’t sleep due to hunger and here I am in my cosy mansion looking forward to a comfortable rest in my air-conditioned room. I have to get my priorities right, I have to change myself and in doing so, I have to change things, my heart bled for the millions out there who wept themselves to sleep every night, who looked at the early rising sun unsure whether they will get the chance to see it again, who cried, who mourned, who grieved, who begged, who prayed…  that night I prayed to God, prayed to Him with all my heart, asked him for forgiveness and for guidance, asked him to make me among those who live only for God and in doing so they live for his creatures, these are selfless souls who are immune to the fripperies of this half-life, this incomplete life, for life is yet to begin, the life of the hereafter, may God enlighten me to serve Him and His creatures in the best possible manner. When I had finished praying I went upstairs to my room, I opened my drawer, took out my wallet and looked out of my bedroom window, the sky was dark save upon a few stars which were glimmering dimly, I tightened my grip on my wallet as a drop of tear rolled down my face, it was time to move away from this worthless life. May God help me.