ISLAND

         "Are your parents alive?"

         "Yes."

         "When was the last time you met them?"

         "Ten years ago."

         "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

         "Yes, I do."

         "When was the last time you saw them?"

         "Seven years ago."

         "Where did you see them?"

         "In a supermarket."

         "Do you have any friends?"

         "No."

         "Where do you live then?"

         "On the street."

         "Do you have any source of income?"

         "Not at all."

         "Then how do you live?"

         "I just live."

         "For how long have you been living like this?"

         "For twelve years."

         "What do you want in life?"

         "Nothing."

         "What's your aim in life?"

         "I have none."

         "Can I arrange welfare for you?"

         "No thanks."

         "How about a place to live?"

         "Don't bother."

         "You must need money for food?"

         "No. I am fine."

         "How can we help you?"

         "Don't worry. I will be okay."

My social worker felt helpless. She did not know what to say.

         The police brought him to the hospital. He had been wandering around on the streets for weeks. He had no food; no shelter. He looked like a bagman. The weather too was getting cold. The winter had its first snowfall. The police became worried when they found him one night sleeping in a bus stand. He looked pale and weak. They thought he may freeze to death.

         "Admit him doctor and look after him," one of the police officers had suggested.

         "Do you want to be admitted?" I asked him.

         "No thanks. I am not sick."

         I felt helpless too. The social worker called his parents. They came and took him home to look after him.

         After a couple of days the police brought him back. We were facing the same dilemma again. The social worker called his sister this time. She came and took him but he took off after a week.

         The police brought him to the hospital once again. They believed he was crazy and should be locked up in a psychiatric hospital for a few months. I did not agree. I thought he was an eccentric and non-conformist. The society and the police could not tolerate him. The social worker this time sent him to a boarding home. The police threatened him that if he was found again loitering in the city streets, he would be put in jail. He smiled. He didn't care.

         A few weeks later, on a Sunday morning, a young man was taking his son for a morning walk in the city park. The child saw something floating in the pond in the middle of the park. He asked his father, "What is that, Daddy?"

         The young man recognized the object. It was a dead body. The bloated corpse was floating upside down. He hurriedly called an ambulance from a nearby phone booth. The paramedics came and put the body in a body bag and placed it on a stretcher inside the ambulance. The young man and his son accompanied them to the hospital emergency department.

         While I was examining the body, the child stood there bewildered. He looked at his father and squeezed his hand. "Daddy," he softly asked.

         "What is it my son?"

         "Our teacher told us that if something is surrounded by water, it is called an island."

         "That's true."

         "Was this man an island, Dad?"