Young Yoke Bearers

This post has been written in rural Andhra Pradesh yesterday, where the word 'internet' is almost unheard of. I was there on duty, to study how other organizations combat HIV/AIDS. The catholic run facility here is one of the best in AP and is run with typical catholic efficiency.
I arrived here nine hours ago. After a 2 hour journey by train, I was escorted from Khazipet station, by a young father who did not speak much. Insecure as I sometimes am, I started getting stressed out, especially after I entered the lovely furnished guest-room (all for me!) and looked at the mirror. I suddenly was able to see myself through his eyes. Suddenly, I began to wonder... Am I too young for this?
The entire day went off talking to everybody in the organization, and getting all the information I needed. (Well, I can't tell that I was entirely satisfied, because, this wasn't exactly the organization I was looking for). After all the interviewing and cajoling information, (most were willing to share, as long as it didn't look professional) out of everybody (except the director, who was extremely diplomatic), I sank into one of the chairs outside their dispensary, wondering if there was more to be done. At this point, a young man came and sat beside me and ventured a "What is your name?"
Thus began a one hour conversation with someone as old as myself, and at present, carries the weight of his world on his shoulders. At 24, MA Pol Science (I'm MA sociology! something in common!) he has a mother who is infected with our friend, the HIV. His father, brothers, grandma... nobody in his family know that his mother is infected with HIV. Her CD4 count is 15 (it should be above 900) and the doctor a few minutes earlier had non-verbally pronounced her death-sentence. The young man is the oldest among four, and he has to take care of them all. When all the villagers ask about his mother's condition, he gives them excuse after excuse. To top it all, he is married, (like everybody else his age in the village) and his wife is 9 months pregnant. She has gone to her mother's house to deliver. I constantly asked him why he did not tell anybody about his mother's real sickness. Sharing the burden would make life easy for everybody! Every time I asked him that question, he either changed the subject or pretended not to understand. I already knew the answer to the question. I just wanted to hear it from him.

I did feel a bit shaken after talking to him, but it was not like it was the first time I have spoken to someone with a life 10,000 times harder than mine. This is a case where I feel I can't do much, but pray and be a friend. I wonder how he felt about me. Here's my imagination of his thoughts.

"Some tall young man from Delhi, who can't speak a word of Telugu is here to watch how people treat People living with HIV/AIDS. Two years younger than me, not as qualified as I am, no idea about life, about love; doesn't know how to talk (Doesn't know when to stop asking questions). How come he is the guy with no problems, traveling the country, earning 10G a month, while I have to juggle my business, my mother, my estranged father, my pregnant wife and my unemployed brothers while I try to get the entire village to stop asking nosy questions? I am also a Christian, same as him, may be even more mature than him. But why me?"

Suddenly all those thoughts about me being too young seemed to disappear.
And in it's place, came a question...
Two men were on a race for a prize. Both had trained equally hard. But one was made to start 10m behind the other. He still caught up with the first. While the first athlete had no obstacles in his track, the second had all sorts of stumbling blocks before him. Is this a fair race? What should the first athlete do to make it fair?