An Orphaned Life

 My 10th Birthday

By Aryan Mukherjee

    It all started when I was resting in my grandparent’s abode in Kolkata, India, all curled up in my lofty bean bag chair like a slug, pondering what to watch on Netflix that day. The hot winter sun was gleaming through the window and infusing little sweat particles above my brow, and the lofty bed behind my back was a furnace. As I was lazily lying around, my mother entered the room and asked me if I would like to go to an orphanage for my birthday.

    “Yeah, yeah”, I tersely dissed her, and nuzzled back into my comfort zone. It was only until the day of my birthday that I realized what I had signed up for. But it was too late, and I was already at the street leading up to the orphanage. I heaved out a sigh and rubbed my eyes softly, ready to go back to my bean bag and slouch. However, something out of the corner of my eyes stole my glance, and I sauntered to investigate it further. Lying there on the ground, like a beetle who lost its wing, was a 10 year old, a rugged half-cut vest adorning his body, and a gruff face desperate for a wash. As I moved closer, the boy turned to see me, and his hollow, empty eyes stopped me cold in my path. It was like I was plunged into a frigid basin of water, and I carefully took a step back, appalled. This boy was as homeless and orphaned as one could be, kicked out on the streets like a filthy rat.

    As I lumbered past him,more kids caught my attention, all in the same boat as the first boy, plopped against a wall with their figures as skinny as an ostrich’s neck, their bones protruding through their skin and their eyes a misty white, like they were dead. As my mom and I made our way past the barren strip of orphans, we arrived at the orphanage. My mom creaked open the doubled-up doors of the orphanage, and for a second, I caved in to my selfish-needs and knew that I wanted to be anywhere but there at the moment.

    However, I overheard a snippet of conservation between the manager and my mom.

    “Thank you so much for helping us out today, these kids really need it. You see, throughout the entirety of their life, they had nobody to look out for them, to care for them, or to even look them in the eyes. They were alone their entire life, forced to survive under our substandard conditions here at the orphanage”, the manager let out a sniff. The heart wrenching truth of the words that the manager had spoken started to tug at my heartstrings just then, and after a moment of celebration, I marched on over to the manager and emptied my heart out.

    “I want to help. I want to give these kids a glimmer of hope, faith that their life can be normal in any way possible. So please, accept this money as a message to these kids that they can now have a year worth of education, and that they, like anyone, deserve to be happy”. I handed over $1,000 dollars in U.S cash to the manager, an allotted amount of money that would typically cover just two birthday parties of mine. Now, it was being put to better use, and these kids have something they have almost never had before; joy. I had finally understood the true value of money.