18th December, 2015. 

It was a long half day. I had to wait for hours before I could leave for home. She needed me, even more at that crucial time. Her messages kept me both nervous and happy at the same time. As I entered my coach, I heaved a sigh of relief. One more time, I was going to visit her, hopefully for the good news we all had been waiting for. 

Second half of December was colder than I had thought, more so in the hill-near area my train was destined to. In three and a half hours, I tucked my shirt and came out to the exit gate of the coach. My feeling then was probably an amalgamation of happiness, nervousness, excitement, shyness, fear, anticipation and what not. 

Before I alighted, the sun had sunk. My father-in-law was waiting for me. I touched his feet and jumped into the front seat of the car. We had a small chat. The hospital was not quite far. Yet we took half an hour to reach there, as he had to stop by at a shop. That half an hour looked longer than the first half of the day I had been through. 

As the car stopped at the entrance of the hospital, I rushed in. She sat on her bed- restless and nervous. Eyes met, I touched her hand and said, "Look, I am here." Love floated in her eyes again, and one more time I had drowned in those lakes. 

The news was not as good as we had expected since the day one. Everything was alright except that the baby was not coming down and the alternative to the natural method was all we could go for. We had the time of hardly a day or at the most two. My wife, my in-laws, other family members and I- we all passed the night in eyes. All hands were folded. 

19th December, 2015

The next morning, relatives-the close ones started to pay visits. As they say "too many cooks spoil the broth", by the afternoon, we all were tired of listening and nodding . We were running out of time, and the doctor - an acquaintance of my father-law, had alowed us to wait till the evening. Not later than 8 pm. Regular checks at the hospital, however, had again confirmed things were alright. But we had to decide quickly.

When all other methods to bring down the baby had been used up, there was no way but surgery. With a lot of deliberation on pros and cons, we made up our mind to go for it, though the decision was not unanimous. My only concern at that time was my wife. I wanted her to come out safe. She was the only saving and treasure of my life thus far. That evening, I had wished some celestial power came to me and whisper in my ears the right path to choose.

Even a small cut on finger can make us dizzy, sight of blood can make us vomit; and she had happily agreed to it.  At 7 pm, I was sent out, I still don't remember why. To drop someone home or to buy something? I went out reluctantly. 

When I was back, I hurriedly entered the premises and came to know she was in the labor room. I exhaled, the countdown had begun. We all outside wore worried faces, timid looks and shoulders burdened with stress. Words cannot express what we felt outside. I personally did not want to imagine what she would have been going through.

I was told that we all could have the first glimpse of the baby through the glass pane in a room attached with the labor room. We all sat in the hall gazing at the pane.

5.

10.

15.

20.

Just a few minutes had passed since I had her last sight. To us, this was like hours. Time can at times be dead slow. It was 07.35 pm, IST (Indian Standard Time), 19th December, 2015 when I first saw him from the pane. They had hanged him upside down for cleaning purpose. He cried loudly as fluids gushed out of his mouth. 

I smiled and turned to my father, "Look, there it is." 
"Is it ours?", was all I could here and "Yes" was all I could offer in a hurried response. My heart beat fast with joy. I rushed into the room and broke the news to those inside. We were all joyous. All congratulated me. I was so happy. :) In a few minutes, the doctor came out and said, "Both are fine. It's a baby boy."

Soon, the baby was in my hands. Softer than the soft, light pink lips and cheeks, tiny but closed eyes, little fingers. Some feelings are above words. It was one more blessing God had bestowed upon me.

After 8 pm, she came out on a stretcher, fully covered, only the face was visible. My heart missed a beat. What a sacrifice she had made! How much pain she had endured! What a risk she had taken! Just in order to give me the best gift of nature I held in my hands- my son.

उदासी का सबब

कुछ तो उदासी का सबब रहा होगा,

ये दिल आखिर यूं ही भर नहीं आता।

रोने को तो हजारों बहाने होते हैं,

कमबख्त हमें भी हंसने का हुनर नहीं आता।

शहर की तरह दिल पे भी ताले पड़े हैं,

कोई उधर नहीं जाता, कोई इधर नहीं आता।

वो ढूंढ लेते हैं अंधेरे मे भी दुश्मन अपना,

हमें उजाले में भी अपना नज़र नहीं आता।

रस्म-ए-दुआ अदा करके मैं खूब रोया हूँ,

यूं ही तो मेरी दुआओं में असर नहीं आता।

मेरी मुसीबतों का कहर टूटे बस मुझ पर,

मेरे हमदर्द का दर्द मुझे सबर नहीं आता। 

THE REMINISCENCES

Sometimes, the clouds above, sailing on the sky, twirl themselves and form a figure, a well-known one to me. Bowled over, I raise my hand and draw the figure in the air. But before a familiar face could turn up, the clouds play with me, they roar loudly, as if in mockery, and drench my eyes. Your absence is painful.

Yet another day of rainy season, I was sitting on my terrace, surrounded by street children. I was playing your favorite numbers on my guitar. Children were dancing and enjoying. Clouds came back from the far south, in all shapes. Lost in my music, I had closed my eyes. After all, it was the last thing I was left with.

Soon it began to drizzle. I was standing like an effigy amid drops. Unmoved! Rain is one of the most pleasant gifts bestowed upon us by God. I was a living organism, yet was not enjoying at all. The children screamed in delight, 'rainbow, rainbow.' I looked in the direction they were pointing. It was there in the horizon, though a bit gloomy. All the seven colors were there. The sun, for a moment, hid behind crawling clouds. In a moment, it came out and shone again. The red setting sun from the west scattered its rays. Dusk was not away. The rainbow shone brighter this time. I wiped my wet face with my wet hands and looked again, hoping for something. And it was then, that the figure showed up. It was a rainbow for others; I could see your face shining bright.

Tears rolled down my cheeks but nobody could see them. I was doing all, smiling at your sight, crying on your fickle presence. My joy knew no bounds.

You whispered, 'Hey, I am here.'

I gave a questioning look, 'Where?'

The clouds roared again. More thunders overjoyed the children. They sang and danced merrily.

I asked, 'Where are you? Where have you been so long?'

You replied, 'Don't look out for me. Where do you think I am?”

I was blank. A pause. A deafening silence. Your glistening face still had that charming effect. Your small straight-edged nose was always the centre of attraction. You had the best nose in the world. I recalled when I had last admired your beauty, especially your nose.

“I am still with you. In your beats. In your eyes. In your tears. In your smile.'

'Why do I feel so lonely then?' Inquisitive, I wanted to dig out everything. I knew you could never be back to me; the bereavement is incurable and excruciating at times.

'It's all about what you feel. See the setting sun?’

I looked at the sun. It was red as if burning. The drizzling had stopped. Raindrops were falling off the leaves. Birds were chattering and flying back to their nests. Clouds had dispersed. 

You broke the ice, ‘The sun never sets. The earth rotates and we assume the sun has set. Yet we know that somewhere there is a sun rising and there is another one shining. Feel me with you. Keep me alive within. I am like that sun.’

My attention was stuck at your beautiful nose. The entire life spent with you ran before my eyes like a slideshow. The perturbing scenes were relived. 4 years had passed by since you left me. In the morning, I used to kiss your nose gently. You buried your head in my chest. And the most painful of all, you, my beloved, were lying dead on the floor, clad in white, surrounded by a flock of people, mourning your early death. Your eyes were closed. You lay quiet. Your face was not covered and your beautiful nose was still visible.

You continued, ‘These rain drops are your feelings. When the sun and these rain drops meet, you can see me. For others, it would be a rainbow. For you, it would be me.'

My interaction was disrupted as somebody was shaking my hand, “Hello.” I kind of woke up. I looked down. It was a young fragile girl, around 4, in a beautiful pink frock. I looked at her innocent face. I had never seen her before. Her nose resembled yours. She shook my hand again, ‘Play. Please. Why did you stop?’

I looked back at the horizon to see you but the sun had set and the rain had stopped. Neither the rainbow was there nor were you.

I shook my head and replied, ‘nothing.’ I smiled, patted on her nose gently and picked up my guitar to play.

LIFE- KAL, AAJKAL AUR KAL

LIFE- KAL, AAJKAL AUR KAL

More than five decades back, my neighbour Mr. X, born to a farmer, was a student in the only government Junior High School in my village situated at the bank of river Yamuna. The area is full of fertile agrarian land. In the bucolic area, the life was very peaceful and healthy those days. Teachers had a strange propensity of sending their pupils back to their residences to bring milk and other edible items like- curd, ghee, sugar, sometimes even lunch. It was termed as a GURU SEWA. One fine day, a new teacher, unaware of the fact that Mr. X was slightly hard of hearing, called Mr. X and said, “Listen carefully. In the recess time, go home and bring me some BOORA (also called TAGAR).” He said, “Fine, sir.”

When the recess bell rang, he ran to the cycle stand, rode his bicycle and reached home. As an obedient student, he went straight to his kitchen, took out a plastic container from the cupboard and ran straight to his cow ranch. Cow ranch? Yes. He came out in a minute and whisked his bicycle to the school. The recess was over by then. The teacher gave him a questioning look. Mr. X took no time to realize what was being demanded. Hurriedly, he reached the table laid before the teacher, opened the lid of his container and unloaded it no time. Phew! The room was filled with odour (scent, I should say) of GOBAR (cow dung). The teacher punished him. After half a century has passed, Mr. X narrates the incident with laughter. Life was simple!

On the other hand, my cousin Mr. Y lives in Delhi and he pays Rs. 4000/- per month as the school fee of Mr. Z, his only child, who is still in KG. Of course, the teachers of this kid will never put up such demands as did the teacher in the first case. Instead, the school administration has already sucked so much from his father. When the child visited his home village for the first time after attaining consciousness, he was astounded to see house flies. He said to his mother, “Mom, see. How big mosquitoes!”

Throughout his life, Mr. X did everything. He farmed, drank, ate, married, raised his children, danced, and fought with his neighbours. Mr. X remained poor but he never complained. Mr. Z will become a rich man some day. But will he be able to relish and cherish life as Mr. X did? A day will come when Mr. Z will surpass our bookish knowledge but what about the practical aspects of life? He can never realize the importance and availability of fresh morning air, clear firmament with twinkling stars, open fields, clear water of the river Yamuna and so many other gifts of nature that we may not pass on to the next generation.

I won’t discuss more. These days, we talk about growth. Has the meaning of growth shrunk to merely growing in terms of riches one possesses? What about the mental peace? Real India is in villages. In the age of Mr. X, there were less amenities but life was worth living. The real progress of life lies in making it easier, not complicated. When I visit home now, I witness foul smell of sugar mill in the morning. I don’t see twinkling stars as the sky turns yellowish at night, thanks to the giant lights. The pious river Yamuna is before your eyes. We may have progressed economically, but we have regressed in those aspects of life which make it worth living. 

अब रंज क्या करना? अब मलाल क्या करना?

तेरी जुर्रत-ए-इंकार पर अब सवाल क्या करना?

एक खुशफ़हमी से तो तेरे सौ सितम अच्छे हैं,

चलो उधर तुम अच्छे रहो, इधर हम अच्छे हैं।

उसकी इकलौती महबूबा कल उसकी बीवी बनी है,

लोग उसे कहते हैं वो किस्मत का बड़ा धनी है।

यहाँ दर्जनों से मिलने के बाद भी तन्हा बैठे हैं,

लोग कहते हैं “तू बच गया, तेरे करम अच्छे हैं।“

चलो उधर तुम अच्छे रहो, इधर हम अच्छे हैं।

आईना-ए-हक़ीक़त मे, बड़ा बदसूरत दिखा हूँ मैं,

भले मे रोड़ा, बुरे वक़्त मे ज़रूरत दिखा हूँ मैं।

मैं कहता हूँ इतना बुरा भी नही हूँ, यकीं कैसे करूँ?

इस झूठी हक़ीक़त से तो मेरे सच्चे भरम अच्छे हैं।

चलो उधर तुम अच्छे रहो, इधर हम अच्छे हैं।

Me and My Monkeys

I tucked my white shirt in my trousers and opened the door cautiously. I was a bit nervous as this was my first day in the new branch. Rajeev Mehra, the manager gave me a smile and asked to come in. My confidence level rose. As I turned to shut the door behind, suddenly the boss shouted, “You, you, get out of here.” I was baffled at this sudden change in behavior. I thought what wrong I had done that the boss suddenly became so much angry and changed his tone. Worried, I froze there. Just then the boss lowered his voice and became quite modest, “No, no, Ajay, not you. You, please come in.” Now he pointed his finger towards the glass pane above the door to explain what the case was. It was a monkey. I had a sigh of relief. “Oh sir, I was afraid. I would have died of heart attack.” The boss chuckled, “Haha. This monkey keeps jumping here and there in our branch. Sometimes, he spoils our food. Sometimes he becomes a reason behind the smile of the customers in our branch just because of his funny acts.”

I looked at the monkey. He was a young one and had reddish fur on his loins and on the rump. A monkey that is found all over India. My knowledge about animals reminded me of the scientific name of his breed- Rhesus Macaque. The mischievous animal was quiet and peeping curiously through the glass pane. Restless as ever, he was chewing something. The boss looked for his bell and pressed the button meant for calling Kallu, the peon. The bell shrieked. In seconds, there appeared Kallu, out of nowhere. The teen boy spoke, “Ji, saab.” Voice had the perfect balance with his lean body. “Go and get two cups of coffee. And look at the rascal there.”  Kallu looked at the pane and went out growling something. Outside the room, he made a special sound. The monkey got angry with this. I came out to see the tussle. Kallu raised his pitch this time, “Hurr! Run away from here.” At this, the mischievous monkey made his own sound. This went for some time. Two mammals were vying fiercely. A hilarious scene was being created. Kallu went to the balcony and came back with a stick. He pointed the stick towards the monkey to frighten him. In response, the monkey took his coconut and aimed at Kallu’s head. Bang on the target! Kallu fell down and the monkey ran away. I burst into laughter.

            Minutes later, I was sipping coffee. I gave a brief introduction, “Ajay Chaudhary from Lucknow, sir. This is my second branch. I have worked as a clerk in a branch in my home district.” Mr Mehra finished his cup and placed it on the large table. “Welcome to Jagdalpur, Ajay.” He brought home to me the work conditions in that area and the challenges I had to face, viz. lack of staff. There were only two clerks including me. I had to look after cash payments. I was taken to my seat by Kallu later.

            Two days rolled by merrily. It was Friday afternoon, lunch time. I was unmarried at that time and lunch was a menace. I put my hand in my bag to take bananas out but didn’t find them there. I asked Kallu if he had taken them out. He told me that he hadn’t. I was sure I had brought 3 bananas with me. Where did they go? Shocked, I decided to go out and eat something. As I was about to leave the big hall, banana peels fell from above in front of my eyes. It took me no time to know what had happened. My face turned red with anger. I looked up and found him sitting and enjoying my hard earned bananas there. I felt like kicking him in his face. But I had witnessed Kallu’s example just a couple of days before. I came over my anger.

            In a matter of one month, I had learnt to keep my lunch and belongings safe after having a few more bitter experiences. All had tried their best but the monkey was too stubborn to leave the place and settle down somewhere else. I had been promoted to the post of Cash Officer on temporary basis as the other clerk had been transferred to some other branch and he was replaced by a new recruitee.

Being a Cash Officer means higher responsibility with little monetary benefits. I had to look after the whole cash maintenance along with my routine cash payment. In the evening, I had to tally cash payments and receipts and close the cash online.

One evening, I was unable to tally total cash. It was a difference of a sum of rupees ten thousand. The sun had set. The Branch Manager had left. There were two creatures in the branch premises- Rajeev, the new recruitee, and I. We had locked the branch from inside and turned every stone to find where actually the sum had gone, but all in vain. I said, “Rajeev, have you thoroughly checked the reports? There should be no laxity.” He replied, “Sir, I have done this practice twice. I am afraid I may have to make up the loss from my own pocket.” Worry and fear were visible on our faces. The amount was a big one. There was no clue as to who had to suffer the loss. We had checked all the reports, receipt vouchers and payment vouchers. I hit the table with my fist, “Who has taken away the sum?” We had gone through all the reports of the day generated in the online reporting system of the bank. We were all drenched; thanks to the hot weather and the labor we had done that day.

Just then I heard some noise on the glass window above the entrance to the hall. He was trying to open the window. Irritating sounds added fuel to the fire. He kept on hitting the window. The noise was reverberating. I lost my temper. I turned into a wild animal. I came out running, looked for something to hit and found a paperweight lying on a table. In the fit of anger, I hurled the paperweight in the direction of the monkey. The weapon hit on the target. It hit the glass. All this took a moment. Anger had made me blind. Soon, I realized what I had done. I saw a very young monkey fall from the window on an erect filing wire placed on a table used for filling up vouchers by the customers. The iron wire had pierced the right front leg of the monkey. He bled profusely. I exclaimed with grief, “Oh God! What have I done!” On the opposite side of the entrance, I heard a noise. Something fell down. Or someone fell down. But what? And where was the older monkey? And what was this young monkey doing? Rajeev came almost running. “Oh shit!” His mouth was left wide open. I ran to the room where we were tallying cash, picked up the key and ran back to the entrance. I opened the door hurriedly and saw the older monkey lying on the floor. His right eye had been hit by the paperweight and some thin pieces of glass had pricked in his eye. I had hit two poor creatures. My voice was mixed with grief now and throat felt choked. “Run, Rajeev. Bring the first aid box.”

I gave first aid to the two poor creatures and called the veterinarian. Surprisingly, harmful looking monkeys didn’t harm us at all. Or I should say they were not in a position to do anything. I had given them so much pain. The veterinarian checked them. “The older one has lost his eye.” He announced. “And I can’t say anything about the young one. If his leg does not improve in two days or it becomes infected or anything, we may have to cut it also.” His words fell on my ears like time-bombs set at a time of two days. I became restless. I asked Rajeev to leave for home and I paid rupees ten thousand from my pocket and closed the cash. I was not as unhappy about the monetary loss that I had to bear as I was about the heinous act I had done.  That night I stayed in the branch, fed the monkeys, took care of them and never slept.

The night was a restless one. Sorrow had seized me. I prayed to the Almighty to heal their wounds and make them healthy. I didn’t ask for forgiveness. I didn’t deserve it. “The poor monkeys are harmless. They need food and shelter only. What I had given them was cruelty. Yes, I am not a human being. I am a wild animal.” I had to atone for the sin. I took a vow to look after the two, not by the time they recuperate, but forever. And the vow was an easy one to be taken but a difficult one to be kept.

            From the very next day, I started to act upon my vow. First, I convinced my Branch Manager. I created a place for the monkeys in the branch. Every day, I fed bananas and other edible items to them. Treatment was going on. In the beginning, they were afraid of me. But they realized that I was friendly for them and so did they become for me. It eased my work a lot.

            Though the two lived happily there, the older monkey had lost his eye and the younger one lost his leg later on. But they had recuperated. Now they lived in the branch full time. There was no one stopping them. None was afraid of them. Nor did they have any feeling of retaliation. I was partly happy.

            A month later, I got married and rented a house. The two monkeys would often accompany me to my house but they had to stay out. I had narrated the whole incident to my wife. She loved animals. However, her love was confined to common pet animals like cats and dogs only. I didn’t love animals. I was doing all this for the sake of the vow, for atonement. A monkey was never welcome in my house. The two had become so fond of me that they wanted to leave neither the branch nor me. I also christened them- the older one got the name Tango and the younger one became Charlie.

            Slowly, I turned into an animal lover. I started going to the park every evening and feeding pigeons and other birds. There I met Suresh, a young man who used to do this practice regularly. We became friends and he told me that he was in need of employment of any kind. Some pandit had asked him to feed birds daily and told him that this would bring luck to him and he would get a job soon. He told me that he had turned into an animal lover gradually but no luck had showered on him. I asked him to be patient and try harder. I didn’t ask him to stop the good practice of feeding birds. We met for months but when I changed my residence, I had to lose my contact with him.

            Time flew on its wings. Tango turned old and passed away. Charlie was left alone. I had been promoted and had to be transferred within a month. One day, an incident happened. Charlie was sitting on the ceiling fan just above the cash counter handled by Rajeev. Rajeev was not on his counter. My seat was just behind his seat. I was busy doing my work. Suddenly, Charlie pounced upon a customer and made some noise to draw my attention. I went there and saw him struggling with the customer to snatch his bag. Charlie had never harmed any customer. Why was he doing so? He succeeded in snatching the polythene bag and he tore it away easily. Two packets worth rupees 20000 came out. The story was clear. The man had stolen the money. I called the police and handed him over. In the custody, he confessed to have stolen the ten thousand rupees that were missing on the day of the cruel act I had done with Tango and Charlie. The police recovered the amount from him. I was happy. I leant “if you do good, so shall you get.”

            Charlie had become special for me. I was worried what would happen to him when I would be transferred. One day he came with a young monkey kid. I welcomed this and named the new member as Rencho. Rencho was as dear to me as were Charlie and late Tango. He received the same treatment from me. By this time, I had realized that my atonement was over but I could not leave them. Of course, Charlie had lost his leg because of me and I had become fond of them.

            Kallu had been selected for a good job in state government. His post was vacant. Our branch gave an advertisement in the local newspaper for filling up the post and received hundreds of applications. On my special request, the advertisement had a unique eligibility condition- “The person should be a lover of animals.” One week was left in my relieving from Jagdalpur branch. I was not sure of what would happen to Charlie and Rencho after my transfer as I could not even keep them in my house with me. My wife opposed this.

            I took the pain of interviewing all the candidates who had applied for the post. All claimed their love for animals but none seemed convincing. I was worried. I looked at the glass pane and found Charlie and Rencho looking at me. They were quiet. They seemed curious to know what was stored in future for them. I could not hold up filling the post for more than two days as the work in the branch suffered for want of a peon. But I was desperate. I didn’t want to lose. I wanted to keep the good work going, at least as much as I could. But how? How could I find a person who was an animal lover and who could serve as a peon? I thought and thought. I again ran through list containing the names of the candidates who had submitted their resume for the vacant post. Sarla, Manoj, Vikas, Sanjay, Rosy, Suresh, Vijay,….. the list was long. But hold on! Suresh! I had known someone named Suresh. Yes, Suresh. How did I forget Suresh? The person was fit for the post as per my requirements but I had an idea that this Suresh was not the one I knew. I went to the cupboard and took out his resume. No…. He was not the person I met in the park. But surely, there was a ray of hope now. I looked at Charlie and Rencho. I smiled. I was happy that there could be someone to keep the good work going. I prayed to the Almighty that Suresh must be unemployed by that time. I was sure I would convince him as he was not much educated and his education could not give him a better job. I left my seat, rushed to my car and turned the wheels towards the old park where I met Suresh…

 

 

(If you do something good, you are destined to receive good. As the proverb goes- As you sow, so shall you reap. But the good work should not stop here. It must go on. The baton must be carried forward, by you and then by your successors….)

CATCH-22 

I was travelling from my home town to some other station by train. My friend was with me. It was a late night journey and we were sleeping face to face on the upper births in a second class compartment. A group of eunuchs entered the train. They disbursed themselves in the carriage, went from person to person, clapped twice loudly in their own style and begged for a note of rupees ten from every passenger in the carriage. The ever worship-able face of my mother lighted bright in front of my eyes. She told me that these people are bad at doing shameful acts in public. If you refuse to their demands, they can undress before the public and can do anything even with you. I felt a shivering. I decided to pose as if I were sleeping like a donkey, but in vain. The eunuch approached me and my flabby friend and clapped. My friend was fearless and knew how to deal with such things. He got up, turned to the eunuch and asked smiling in his own unique tone, “Kya maamla hai?” The eunuch, to my surprise, went away. I thanked my friend. A week later, I had to face the same situation but I was alone this time. The eunuch came to me and asked to give him rupees ten. I reached to my pocket and handed him a note of rupees ten.

I do not remember the name of the person but all of us know him very well. He was the one who received us from the station and accompanied us throughout our Hyderabad tour. Let us call him Mr A. It was our DANCE ON THE CRUISE evening in Hyderabad. All were dancing but I was not as I do not know how to. I was holding my friend’s camera in my hand and taking pictures and shooting videos of the dancing stars. All danced very well. There was kind of a shop at the cruise, one that served cold drinks and other beverages. My friend came to me and I asked him if he would take a break and drink something cold. He agreed. I bought two Frooty, one for each of us. Mr A was looking at us. Both of us started drinking Frooty. He came to me and he said something that shook me. His words were, “Sir, when you have taken the half of it, please leave the rest half for me.” I was dumbfounded. I bought a fresh one for him. Mr A drank it cheerfully and thanked me.

It was 02.10 on a Friday afternoon at New Delhi Railway Station. I was waiting for a train to my hometown. A woman in tattered rags with a shabby child in her lap approached me and begged for money, stating that the child was sick and needed medical treatment. Generally I am never in mood of giving even a single hard earned penny to someone without a reason, not to ask of beggars. The child was sleeping quietly and its quietness reminded me of what I had read weeks ago on social site Facebook that children in the arms of such beggars are generally given liquor or some other sedatives so that they do not become hindrance in the functioning by crying owing to hunger or any other ailments. These children even die of overdose of sedatives as their delicate organs find it unable to bear these things. I gave her nothing and moved aside.

Today I finished my lunch and went for an ice-cream, my favorite Matka Kulfi. I bought one for rupees ten. I gave the seller the amount and took an ice-cream wrapped in a tissue paper. Standing there, I started licking it, chewing it and eating it. A grown up man, probably over 40 years of age, came singing an old Hindi movie song loudly and cheerfully. He seemed unaware of all the problems of life, he was merry. He had a small Coke (300 ml bottle) in his hand. He was unshaved, dressed in rags, but healthy and cheerful. He staggered and it gave me a feeling that he was drunk. There was a joy in his eyes. He was not mad. Then I saw him coming to me. He stood in front of me and said, “Babuji, ek ice-cream khila do.” I was unmoved and in a catch-22 situation. I wanted to let him have an ice-cream, but something within stopped me from doing so. Deep inside, the question arose “why?” But he requested again. This time, I looked at the seller who was looking at both of us, silently and smilingly. I reached for my wallet, took out a ten rupee note, handed it to the ice-cream seller and asked him to fulfill his wish. He took the ice-cream, thanked me loudly and went away singing.

Maybe all of us face these real time situations at times. My response in all the above mentioned situations has been different. Once I was forced to give. The next time, he was not a beggar at all, though he begged something in a manner that suits beggar more. The man had served us day and night, and it was my pleasure that I could quench his thirst; I could let him have a smile on his face when all my friends were breaking the dance floor. Then the lady with the child in her arms became a prey to my knowledge that may be or even may not be true. I am still unsure whether my act of not helping her could be justified or not. And the last one. Well, it’s something that has just happened. I’ll have to think over it to decide whether my stand could be justified or not. What do you say?