Dichotomy of Lifestyles

The Deshpande family held an incredible ceremony for their son who is a graduate of MIT. The USC fellows were invited to join a 1,000 or so others at the beautiful event. The firework show alone replicated one of Walt Disney’s. We felt honored to be a part of such an experience and blessed by the many opportunities we have already been given as Deshpande Fellows. After a weekend of festivities, I came home to unwind and decided to head to Downtown Hubli to run some errands. It was in this particular adventure that I began acknowledge firsthand the inescapable poverty of other peoples’ lives.
Walking in the streets of downtown, Christine and I received much attention. In between the few “hellos” and curious looks from the townspeople, we ourselves were absorbed the unfamiliar sight of people living in poverty. Many of the townspeople walked barefoot in the muddy streets carrying hefty baskets on top of their heads. The countless unsupervised children darted back and forth, some on rusty bikes, others in the hands of other siblings.
By the time we found the supplies we needed, I was ready to leave a place that pulled me from my comfort zone. For the first time, I did not feel confident in my skin.
Ascending the street to find a rickshaw to take us back to our hostel, we came across something I never expected. A crowd of people had gathered around someone. As we approached we saw his feet surrounded by flies. He was lying face down.
My feet led me through the crowd as I knocked elbows with many spectators. I had passed the scene, yet my eyes pulled me back. I looked over my shoulder not wanting to see what I was about to, but needing to know he was just hurt…
His head was pressed against the wet gravel, his eyes glazed over. The young man, most likely no older than myself, rest alone. Dead…I left the scene with what felt like a block weighing down on my chest, still wondering where his family is, or if he is just another number.