Who doesn't have trouble in life? Who at some point of time has not felt as the most terrified person on Earth? Or the most troubled person on Earth? And yet, are you the worst affected? Is there no one here who is not in a worse shape?
I felt this ever since my internship. My very first posting was in the pediatric department. having joined the internship as one of the most unhappy persons on Earth, I had entered the internship program with some grudges, and some distress. I did not like kids. I could not bear the noise they made. And I just was not happy with the way my life had turned. In short, I was not a happy person, unlike most of those who had started internship by my side. I would rather be elsewhere doing something else. But options were few. And I had to do what I had to do. In simple words, life was not looking good.
And then pediatrics happened. The first few days were not good. After all that was the first time I was doing a job on my own, in a fashion that someone else wanted me to do that job. It took me sometime to learn the strings, the ways the things are done. It did not help that I was unhappy. In retrospect, looking at the amount of experience I gained later in internship, I could probably have been a better intern had I been relatively happier. Once I got comfortable with the type of work I was given, the kids in the pediatrics ward helped me out of my gloom. I don't know whether during that phase it was I who was helping heal the kids in my ward, or was it the kids who were helping soothe my nerves, helping me improve the person that i was, helping me see that i was not the worst affected on the planet. Those young souls were there, active and happy when not feverish and low and inactive when febrile. But somehow they never let go of hope. They would always have those bright eyes, dulled by the pain of their illness, but with the hope that the good doctor could always give them a tablet or a sweet syrup that would help them come back to the play table again. And there they were always ready to smile when they had the strength to do so.
And then came in the admissions that I could not help. They were the kids that could not be helped, because there was no therapy for their illness, or because their parents had no further financial capacity to treat them. Or simply because they were brought in too late. And yet the reserve of the strength in them was vast. Some of them seemed to face life better than i could. They seemed to know what would eventually happen. But they had learnt to fill the days with the quality that a human deserves. They had learnt so early in their young lives to Live.
It started making me happy. It became a routine for me to visit the pediatric ward even when I was not needed. I would go to the library after the evening round, reading for the residency programme. I didn't realize it at the time, but I always took the seat that faced the pediatric ward. I could always keep looking at what those kids were doing. And everyday I would visit the pediatric ward after the library hours before I went in for dinner and bed.
I gradually started interacting with the children. Playing with them, painting with them, singing with them, trying to teach them new games and skills. Skills that were mine to share with them. I would personally make sure that all of them had slept. I would bother the resident if the kid was not comfortable or could not sleep. (That was the phase I was not allowed to prescribe. Frankly, I would still avoid prescribing to a child. They are so delicate). I tried to make the hospital ward a play ground. I did what I could while I was there.
I still don't know whether it was I helping them, or whether their reserve of strength kept drawing me to the ward, and that I got addicted to the strength. All I know is that I needed to be there, to play with them, to see their happy and laughing faces, and to feel happy with them.
I never was a believer. I never was a non believer.
I became more of a believer because it was obviously God's gift that I got the posting first, I got the posting first when I was not happy. It was a posting I did not wish to come to me first. It was probably His way of healing me. His way of telling me that maybe i was wronged, but it was time to move on.
I became more of a non believer. How could He let these young souls suffer? What was wrong with Him? These kids had not even started seeing the beauty that is called Life. And some of them never would. Why did he give kids to those who didn't want them? Didn't appreciate their existence? Didn't understand the magic that the kids brought? Why did He make the life of those young magicians hell? Yes, many of you would tell me its not our place to question His decisions. Some of you would sink to telling me that it was their misdeeds of some other age. I ask you- Who is suppossed to be the correcting entity, the forgiving entity? And if they are just facing the repercussions of past deeds, why can't they have a normal childhood? Why can't they face the repercussions later in life? And why give life at all to a soul, when you just intend to take it away giving the child a painful non treatable disease?

The kids gave back to me the happiness I had lost.
Thanks to all of them.