The winter chills were not taking a name of going away. The nights were turning colder and getting out of bed a tougher challenge. If that seemed enough there was the splashing of water on the face or the freshening up part that took the prize. I wish there could be a better way around but when you have breakfast and tea to make, dress up and make a run like Shah Rukh Khan in any of his movies for your office bus you are left with no choice other than fighting the odds.
Everyday my regiment had been the same throughout. What only changed was the day, the week, the month, the seasons and the year. Everyday as I made my way to my stop which was a good 20 minutes away from home I never failed to see a man. A man sitting alone at the roadside junction, dressed in the same shabby clothes, hands joined asking for help and eyes pleading for mercy. As I approached that man he would extend his arms in my direction and plead for help. Since not helping beggars is what I had lived by I ignored him and walked away. Also the tension of missing my bus kept my eyes fixed on the road and not the vehicles, people or objects off it.
I'm sure he must have been not more than 50 years. Able bodied with no signs of disability. He seemed to have many takers as passerby's would offer him money and small packets of biscuits. I wonder what lied in those eyes that could move many. Was it only that or the unkempt beard that added to the look? Sitting in the same place, wearing the clothes till I could recall, having the same expression and look and never failing to ask me for a dime even though he knew what the end result would be; I must say he seemed an expert at his trade.
Like all these days today was no different. There again I was, catching up with time, taking rapid strides to reach my stop ignoring one and all in my way. Needless to say I did notice that solitary beggar. And yes he did his drill again. “Surely he should be given something. He’s been begging of you all these days and not once you have given him something. Nelton, you can’t be so heartless”, the voice inside me spoke. “Fine, fine, fine I’ll do it tomorrow”, I retorted back. “Now be quiet and let me concentrate on my bus or I’ll miss it.” The next day was actually my birthday. As I always made sure I did a good deed on my day by either giving alms for the poor or doing something special for someone this seemed a perfect opportunity to do some good this year.
The next day arrived. Though it had at midnight itself with a barrage of calls and sms’ and posts on Facebook the morning was no different. The same regiment, the same running around, the same rapid strides. But yes, I had something important to do before catching my bus; I had something to look for before my bus. Yes, I did take notice, I looked and was shocked. What lied before me was something I couldn’t comprehend. Before me lay the same beggar, wearing the same clothes, the same unkempt beard but without his eyes or hands pleading for mercy. What lay before me was corpse covered in a white sheet with a garland around its neck. How? When? Why? And more importantly why today? When I never gave him any alms he seemed hale and hearty and the moment I thought of doing this…
At a distance I saw my bus. I had to leave; leave now. With heavy steps I placed some alms besides him with a sorry and a prayer on my lips and made a move towards my stop.
