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My child..!

I had been invited to visit the new Oxford Book Store a couple of days ago, but the evening turned out to be an eye opener for me, as there was a reading from a new book brought out by Penguin called 'The Penguin Guide to Adoption in India,' compiled by Dr Aloma Lobo and Jayapriya Vasudevan. The book had information on where to start, where to find information and how to finally bring your child home.

As I listened to extracts from the book being read it seemed as if faces of a million homeless babies were gaping at me through the windows and doors, of the posh book store, asking to be loved, asking for a mothers touch, a fathers affection, a siblings bond. And through another door I saw, childless couples running from doctor to doctor, looking with envy at proud parents, pregnant mothers to be and squealing children. The orphan babies at one window seemed to be reaching out for love and the childless couples at the other window were offering their love, but their hands didn't touch each other.

My mind goes to three friends who's names all start with R.

All three love children, but have none of their own.

First there's Rajan, a fighter pilot who joined the airlines years ago and who now as a senior executive for a major airline draws a salary that could feed a small orphanage. He and his wife love children, could not have any of their own and finally adopted a dog. I used to sit at his home and watch as the two of them petted and pampered, cuddled and canoodled the dumb cannine.

The wife was so fond of the dog that she never ever went on a holiday with her husband and only vacationed for the first time this year after the old dog died at the ripe age of eighteen. By then, they were too old to enjoy vacation spots and too set in their ways to enjoy the company of kids..! The second friend's name is Richard. "Bob," he has whispered into my ear as he feeds a crow that eats from his hand, "how I love children, but my missus she can't have them, some complications, you know what I mean" "Why don't you adopt?" I ask. "Nah, if you can't have your own, who wants someone else's?" he says and continues to feed the lucky crow.

And then my young friend Roy. Roy has been spending his last couple of years in and out of fertility clinics, not just spending precious time, but has been spending precious money like water, some of which he has borrowed from me. Roy spends a large part of his time working with street children and children in remand homes. Children who are craving for a dad and mom. But never has Roy bothered to look at one of them as his own..! My wandering mind comes back to the bookstore. I hear the voice of the girl who is reading. A lovely child, and as she finishes, Dr Lobo, hugs her and tells the audience, "my child..!" The girl smiles. "I have five brothers and sisters, two of us are adopted, but we are all treated the same, no difference. We are loved equally." I look up guiltily as I hear the cries of a million orphans wailing and weeping, screaming and sobbing to be held and hugged.

Thank you Dr Lobo, thank you Mrs Vasudevan for a much needed opening of our selfish eyes, and may your book help thousands of children find homes, where they will be loved and cherished, and where they will love and cherish those that call them, "My child..!"

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