Death on the school run!

Just when you think you have seen it all in India from the gut wrenchingly cruel to the faith revivingly sweet, something comes along and shocks you all over again.Once you have become complacent about your surroundings, something awakens you with a lightning bolt size reality check.

I have just got back from Blighty were I was constantly hearing phrases like "uncertain times ahead" and "could get worse before it gets better" and ridiculously, "more and more people living below the poverty line". I frequently have - what now sound increasingly pathetic - conversations about how hard it is to get good housekeepers and drivers!

Nobody is truly living below the poverty line in the UK. they may be according to some W.H.O. statistic but in reality we see nothing like the poverty in Blighty anywhere that you can't see on every street corner in one of India's most cosmopolitan cities.

The fact that our drivers don't speak perfect English and our housekeeper doesn't dust the tops of the door frames without being prompted frankly make us look moronic.

Pretty much everybody I know in the world are incredibly lucky on a grand scale. We all have our ups and downs but on the whole we live a privileged and lucky life. Even though here our kids witness poverty and suffering on a daily basis, they don't have to live in it. Children back in Blighty may learn a bit about it in school and see horrors and suffering on the TV but they never have to see it in the flesh.

Imagine what a shock it was then at 2.30 yesterday afternoon on the school run on a beautiful sunny afternoon on Delhi's equivalent of the North Circular to come across two dead bodies on the side of the road!

When I say two dead bodies, one was undoubtedly dead, a man of indistinguishable age due to his severe malnutrition. The other, a young boy, clearly was breathing his last laying in a crumpled heap covered in flies.With the traffic stopped due to a jam up ahead we were parked right next to them. It was the most astonishing thing to witness as people just walked passed them as if they were not there. As if they see this thing all the time. The truth is, they probably do.

They looked like the sort of images we see on the evening news from Rawanda or a famine ridden African country, but here we were in an upmarket suburb of Delhi. With people crossing the road to avoid them and covering their mouths and noses with their handkerchiefs eventually, two young guys stopped and got out their mobile phones.

Who they would have called I don't know because there is no ambulance service here. Not everyone gets a level of care to sustain their health and dignity that we get just by the luck of being born in to great privilege. Whatever happened to them they were removed because several hours later I had to drive past again. I would bet though that they lay there for a good few hours first.

Who these two people were or how they got to be in that situation I will obviously never know. I do know though that The sight of the man laying there with head tilted back and eyes and mouth wide open twisted in agony will live with me forever. It is a sight people should not accept in a civilised society and one I just hope Raffi never got a good enough look at to comprehend (I made him keep his eyes closed).

I felt completely useless. In Blighty, you know you will most likely live your whole life and never have to witness a dead body. If you did come across one in the streets though you would know exactly what to do. Here, I was hamstrung and helpless with no idea what to do. I hope I never have to witness this again but I will make it my priority to find out what I can do to help so if -God forbid- it happens again I will be equipped.

I do know that next time I am bemoaning the fact that my housekeeper forgot to get milk or I hear someone moaning about what a mess the UK is in and that the NHS doesn't work, I shall think of that face and thank my lucky stars.