squalor that leaves the mind gasping for air

"In the lights of passing shops,
we could see tattered clothing on a
frail humanity,
pumping water into an old bucket,
carrying a gunny sack of
dirty papers and rags,
and hammering on a
greasy bicycle frame.

My wife was crying tears and sobbing sobs,
"Take me back home!"
"I want to go back home!"

My heart was thinking,
"Is this a ride through hell?"
"Is this a night in Paradise Lost?"
"Is this what happens
when no one cares?"
"Is this the ultimate end of
a lost humanity?"
"And where are the shepherds
to look for the lost sheep?"

In Calcutta, you walk through human
stench and bone-grinding
degradation and watch a heroic
struggle against all the odds to
survive in a squalor that leaves the mind
gasping for air.

You walk through a no-man's land of
lepers begging
with no noses and
with stumps for fingers
(the flesh long since eaten away).

You see humanity with no limbs, partial
limbs, and horribly twisted limbs
vying for alms with mothers
clutching new-born babies to their
shriveled breasts.

You see children scavenging garbage bins
for bits of broken glass or metal
for 14 cents a day.

Then, before you can get accustomed to
the depths of someone else's misery,
the survival dance takes a different turn.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an
enchantingly beautiful nine- or ten-year
old girl picking through a pile of
ashes to find some bits of
charcoal to sell.

Her beauty could appear on the cover of
any number of American fashion
magazines were it not for her filth, and
you ask yourself,

"What future does she have?"

"How long before she begins to sell herself for
some man’s quick joyride
at 30 or 40 cents a shot?"

And deeper questions jettison into your
conscience,
"What is my responsibility here?"
"Am I my brother's keeper?"
"Who is my neighbor?"

---

I'm not sure who wrote this, maybe David G. Marmon.
But it resonates with me, reminds me of Haiti - the
"you walk through human
stench and bone-grinding
degradation and watch a heroic
struggle against all the odds to
survive in a squalor that leaves the mind
gasping for air."
especially,
with the ending being the sort of questions that seem to be permanently embedded in my own thoughts, the answers always changing and never secure enough to be closed with a period.
I despair over being bound by financial limitations in my longings to experience and hopefully help change the world/at least one person's life, but it doesn't leave me without excuse or responsibility even with under $50 to live off of for the next who knows how long. This is perhaps a bit extreme, but challenging and thought provoking for me non-the-less:

"Definitely Mother Teresa is someone I consider a hero; not for her work and dedication to the poor and the dying and destitute; nor for the nice quotes she left us to write in our face book profiles. I admire her for her power to sacrifice without requirements. I have been seen how missionaries work around the world, and how non-profits organizations functions and there is always conditions and requirements of all sorts, from A to Z, from all colors of the rainbow and wedding ring sizes before "loving people".
I am not ignorant and I am quite aware that without money we can't do much; we cannot help a hungry child or cure someone’s disease. But seems that it was not that important for Momma T and she has never have those requirements to start to acting justly, love mercy and walking humbly: begging for food herself to feed the orphans was a sacrifice she made but she never required of God to provide everything before she started living the life she was called to.
How many people like helping the poor but with the condition of a home with a bed and a place to shower? Or How many of us are willing to live with the poor somewhere in the slums in Thailand, knowing that we can always count in having few dollars that someone, either family or friends, will deposit to held us to get our basic needs and once in a while a treat?
I want to help everyone only if I have my own comfort zone within my uncomfortable zone. I have conditions to help. I am a hypocrite; that’s what I am and I realized that there are so many things I have to confront. But Mother Teresa was not even close to be a hypocrite: she became an orphan herself (separating from her family), and lived among the poor leaving behind the comfort of her cozy convent in Loreto"

(-www.iamhumanity.blogspot.com)