Oh God, why this?

Just today I found one of those Sharity Elephant donation envelopes on the computer table, for Children's Day. One of my brother's things, he leaves his things crushed in his schoolbag so that the remains are often not found until months later.

It is one of those things that breaks your heart, really. There was message printed on it (by the Community Chest of course):

Hello, my name is Luqman.

I am 4 years old and I have
Down's Syndrome. I'm learning
to talk and play with my
friends. My teachers and
Sharity Elephant are helping
me. Can you help me too?
I will try my best.

Firstly, it's the Down's Syndrome. It's terrible that people have to be born that way; it makes you wonder, what is life, really? What is life if you are not yourself, if you do not know yourself? I am glad to be alive, to be whole...and am I glad not to be like these people, not one of them? Yes, I am. Very much.

There is so much sadness in the envelope. Call me sentimental but yes, it is so. I have felt this kind of sadness, silent, still, bright in all things ever since early childhood, but this must be one of the worst. They even provided a picture of this dribbly little boy, mouth open, eyes down. What is he? What is he? Stare all you like. What is he? Sharity Elephant is standing next to him. They are a freak show, unreal and as sharp and cutting as pixels.

It is an appeal for Help, please (!). He's so far away but the picture does not fail to grind itself into my mind. Is it his suffering, or is it ours since it is we who can sense his lack? Does he know his lack? These questions will follow me...for so long after.

It is all our sufferings perhaps; humans have a keen sense of pain if they are bothered at all to put it into use. The Message there is to hurt a person enough to put a bit spare change in the envelope, dammit.