The forgotten and unloved 

You see them on the streets, yet you shun them. Men huddled in a corner, dirty and unshaven, with unkempt hair. Dark patches of stains are on their jackets, and the only solace they seek is from taking deep puffs of a rolled cigarette. Some of them laugh loudly and crude jokes are passed around and washed down with some vodka and beer. They barely make eye contact with you and when they do, you turn away in disgust and walk away quickly, blending into the silhouettes of the city landscape. And they are forgotten. 


It's been a week of clinicals, and I am brimming with thoughts of my own. I am currently working with people who might have various mental illnesses such as schizophrenia etc, and a host of other problems that they're facing tt I might not even know about. Some of them I see in the week are homeless (but not necessarily part of what i'm doing) , some with poor housing conditions, many with drug and alcohol addiction problems. And their lives just seem so empty, void and bleak. And yet I see glimmers here and there, a glimpse of humanity that's enough to probe and remind me, albeit with a tinge of sadness, that hey, they're humans too. And yet the conditions of their lives are so harsh, such an exact opposite of the lives most of us are living. I felt shivers when I stepped into some their houses, torn and yellowed wallpapers, food stains in the kitchen, a faint yellow light in the common area that had obscenities scribbled on it, really old fridge, sunken and torn couches... and loud gaffawing and smoke and drinks and then I was told they were doing drugs. Why and how? Is it a form of escapism of the monstrosities of their lives? I wonder what problems they are facing. 


I pray for wisdom in planning activities , no matter how simple they are, and a compassionate and teachable heart. It has been a really good week though:)