Taare zameen par



One evening, I decided to take some milk and biscuits and meet these street kids. They live in the slums nearby and in the evening, they are sent by their parents to sell knick-knacks on the main Bungalow Road market. Just captured a few moments and recorded them to share them. They were carrying boxes of hairbands, clips, clutchers, stationery and socks to sell, yet they neither tried to evoke, nor did I feel, pity for them. Their hair was dishevelled, their clothes mostly dirty and tattered, and yet they were content with their lot. On a cold winter evening, whatever warm clothing they had, their heart and spirits were warm. I felt lower than them since despite having so much in life, there was still no contentment. They seemed to be like friends to look up to.

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