“Neelam is rather strange, don’t you think? She never participates in any of the charity events organized in our society, though she is in a high-profile job and can contribute easily,” Riya whispered to her neighbor Ranita as Neelam passed by. “Oh, you’re telling me!” Ranita replied pulling a face, “She acts the same in office, Meena told me the other day. They often go out for lunch or shopping with other colleagues and she has never seen Neelam give a paisa in alms or buy food for the street children.

“Well some people are just heartless, I guess, comfortably ensconced in their luxurious homes they pretend that the outside world doesn’t exist,” remarked Riya derisively as they went back to their chores.

Sadiya Begum closed the window tightly against the chill and switched on the room heater, relishing the comforting warmth. Her heart sent a blessing to the person who made this luxury possible for them. Her husband, Lateef, had retired ages ago from a semi-government service and the meager pension failed to make a dent in that demon called inflation.

Sadiya and Lateef were childless, though they had some relatives who offered occasional financial support but they were self-respecting people and never asked for help however dire the circumstances. They had once experienced the good things in life and now accepted whatever fate destined for them. But life wouldn’t let you go so easily! Their struggle to survive was excruciatingly painful with old age miseries adding to their woes. High medical costs made it difficult for them to avail proper health care thus resulting in Lateef’s arthritis rendering him almost disabled.

The tiny house turned into an oven during long sweltering summers, an igloo in winters, and leaked shamelessly during the monsoon season. Sometimes, they had to keep shifting their beds all night to avoid getting soaked.

Then one day last year, their neighbor Rani who worked as a ward attendant in a private hospital visited them, accompanied by an elegant young woman.

Mannu put the tools down and rubbed his one good hand with what was left of the other. He was, or rather used to be a fine carpenter until his most trusted tool – the saw - turned into his worst enemy. It sliced through his left hand during work one day. The client at whose house he was working was kind enough to call for the ambulance and he was rushed to the hospital at once. Doctors’ best efforts managed to prevent gangrene which would have necessitated amputation of the hand or even the arm but he came home minus three fingers.

Being the sole bread-winner of a family of seven – four small children and an asthmatic father, besides his wife and himself - Mannu had no time to dwell on his misfortune and as soon as he came out of the hospital, started assisting fellow carpenters in their work. Carpentry was their ancestral profession and his poor father also took to work once again which worsened his illness. Between the two of them, they hardly managed to make ends meet, far from thinking about other expenses like kids’ schooling. Two of them were of school-going age and the third one was almost there. Though tuition was free yet books, stationery, uniforms, etc. had to be taken care of. He didn’t know who to turn to in this hard time as all their relatives were in the same income bracket as him.

“Hey Mannu, I have got a new project in a big office. It smells good money and I’m allowed to bring anyone of my choice to speed it up. Golu and Bhola are already in, would you also like to join?” That was his cousin Sonny who was a contractor. “You are asking a drowning man whether he wants to be saved,” Mannu smiled wryly.

Neelam was the head of finances in the office where Mannu started his new work. She first noticed him because of his obvious deformity and then saw him slogging laboriously the whole day long. While his counterparts took several breaks during work, sipping tea and gossiping, he took only one short break at lunchtime. She was touched by his effort to make up for his deficiency in this manner and decided to learn more about him.

“Look Sadiya Begum, you are my elder and I have a great respect for you!” Neelam said. “But I would like to remind you that as fellow humans we have a right to each other - I don’t like to use the word duty as it entails encumbrance - we have a right to share in each other’s sorrows and joys, that’s how Almighty intended it to be whether one acknowledges it or not!” she continued, “today, you have some problems which I can help with, tomorrow, you could perhaps support me in some way, who knows!” Lateef raised his head and said dejectedly, “You are kind to say that, child, but we are a useless old couple incapable of helping ourselves much less the others.” “Don’t worry about it uncle, time will show us who is capable of what. Being a learned wise man, surely you can’t deny the significance of time in all our lives?”

Neelam let the question hang in the air until Rani broke the silence, “Sadiya didi (sister), bhai saheb (brother), I have known Neelam ma’am for a long time, she has enabled many families to live with dignity. Please let her help you too.” This seemed to hit the right chord with the old couple, their eyes met and some sort of understanding was conveyed.

Mannu came out of his reverie with a jolt! He will never forget the day and the way Neelam ma’am talked to him, praising his sincerity, encouraging him, and thus gaining a glimpse of his world of sorrows and struggles. She had since allotted him every carpentry or any other work that he could do - like assisting with whitewashing and painting - in her office and home, recommending him to all her relatives, friends, and acquaintances. His three kids were doing well in school while his father was getting the much-deserved rest and proper treatment. How one could ever repay such kindness, he often wondered!

“Hello, look who’s there, isn’t it Neelam? But what is she doing in this area, I wonder!” Ria exclaimed, halting the car. She had come to shop in a prominent mall with Meena and as they were leaving she caught a glimpse of Neelam in the side mirror. She seemed to be deep in conversation with some people outside the slum located at the back of the mall. They watched in greatest surprise as a young girl hugged her and an older man pat her head. Then she got into the car and drove towards them. Ria pressed the horn to catch her attention and she stopped near her. Sliding down the windows, they stared at each other then Ria spoke up, “Hello Neelam, is everything alright? Who are those people you were talking to? We were just returning from the mall when we saw you.”

Neelam gazed thoughtfully at her neighbors for a minute then replied, “Can we talk over coffee? I was just heading to the ‘Brown Beans’ down the stadium road.” They agreed to meet at the café. Once seated, Neelam sighed heavily and said, “I went there to meet Nimmy. She is 19 years old and has no one in the world but an invalid mother. Her younger brother Shanu was killed in an accident two years back. He was just 15 years old and was learning to be a car mechanic. That particular day, Shanu had gone for some work to the airport area with his supervisor Rahi who was driving while he rode the pillion. A speeding SUV hit them from behind, crushing their bike and both of them died on the spot. As it turned out later, the SUV belonged to an MLA so obviously, the killers were never brought to book. By the way, Rahi was also not more than 24 years of age, he sometimes used to drive my father’s car so we knew his family well.” Neelam paused, blinking back her tears.

“Nimmy is only primary-educated, she had to drop out after her father died of a sudden heart attack. He was a supervisor in a shoe factory and earned well. They used to live comfortably in a decent area. But as he died young with less than fifteen years of service, his FD and other benefits fell miserably short of their needs. So, they were forced to move over to their present residence in the slum. Nimmy does some sewing and embroidery work from home but you can imagine how much an untrained person can earn like that! All their hopes were pinned on Shanu.”

“When I heard about the tragedy from Rahi’s father, I visited Shanu’s family and convinced Nimmy to take up a dress designing and stitching course run by a reputable NGO in the city. They charge a reasonable fee which I contributed. She has also joined their specially designed classes for the disadvantaged, learning English, Hindi, Arithmetic, General Studies, and Computers. They have a placement facility for their students so I hope that she’ll make something of herself in the near future!” Neelam rubbed her eyes and continued to a stunned audience, “but Nimmy is not the only one, there are so many others striving to get out of the black hole of their desperate circumstances. They are ready to work their fingers to the bone if required and believe me they don’t wish for handouts but only caring support and someone to show them the right direction.” Riya and Meena thought that they would not be able to look Neelam in the eyes any time too soon.

Dear Readers, as Neelam rightly said, numerous people are struggling to live honorably, but sadly, only a handful like Neelam take pains to search them out and lend support where it is needed the most. They are all around us yet cannot be seen except by a truly enlightened mind. We don’t see them on streets or outside the temples and mosques seeking alms or in the markets - hounding us to buy them momos, or milk for their emaciated and often drugged infants. No government schemes or NGOs can reach them as they are too proud to put their neediness on display. They are hardworking, worthy people quietly facing the challenges that each day brings.

They are The Invisibles!   

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