Yesterday, I went to Marine Lines for some me time . To see the red
sun dunk into the expanse of the Arabian Sea is an experience so
fulfilling, I don't mind traveling three and a half hours in Mumbai's
overcrowded local trains to feel it. And I do it very often. Yesterday,
was a little different though. Instead of the gratifying feeling I get
every time, something weighed heavily on me while I was leaving.
There was this little girl, hardly 4-5 who came to me with little red roses clenched in her little fists and asked me if I could buy one. I looked at her. A lean dusky innocent face, very striking because unlike those street urchins who get used to the grind and harsh realities of life, becoming big and bratty too soon, this one had sadness and it felt like she had been forced to get to work. There were dried tear marks on her cheeks. Lovingly, I asked, "Kitne ka hai?".
"Dus", she replied.
I took one from her and reached out for my pocket to pay. I had one 50 rupee note and one 100 rupee note. I asked her, "Aapke paas change hai?"
"Nahi", she said.
I found myself in an uncomfortable situation. I didn't want to let her go without having bought the rose. I didn't want her to not have achieved what she wanted to. In this case, the objective was as small as selling a rose for mere ten rupees.
For a moment I thought, I can give her 50 for the rose. But then I was like, "50 for 1 rose?That's too much!" I had actually wanted just one and that too for the sake of that little girl. And that feeling was so overwhelming, it just didn't strike me that I could buy 5 roses for 50. The "charity" figure of "rupees 10" was so imprinted in my mind, that when I realized I didn't have 10 rupees, I felt helpless. I felt bad, but I just let her go, saying, "Sorry, dus nahi hai." She didn't say anything and walked away asking the completely lost-in-each-other couple next to me to buy one. And not surprisingly, they were least bothered to even look at her.
Hurriedly I reached for my bag hoping to find the orange I had dropped into it while leaving home.After groping for sometime I realized, I had given it away to an old poor woman at the station on my way.
Somehow, the guilt of not being able to help the child started to fade away. I literally spoke these words to myself , "I did my part today. I gave the old woman something to eat."
I just kept watching the little girl walk from person to person. The sun had set, it grew dark and soon she was out of sight.
Then came the chai wala. I felt elated. "I'll get the change from the chai wala and buy a rose from the little one. I'll give her 20 for 1." I hoped,I prayed the little girl to come back the same route so I could buy from her. I waited, 5 minutes...10 minutes...20 minutes...she didn't come back.
I felt bad. I felt sad. I felt guilty. What stopped me from giving away the fifty rupee note I had in my pocket? And what on earth made me ask her for change? Did she even know the math? We are so occupied with the value of money and making loads of it that losing some of it for a good deed is an action against our programmed minds. Haven't we conditioned our minds against our souls whose inherent nature is to find oneness in all? To connect and to help? Fifty wasn't too much for me, but it would have meant a lot to her.
I got up, hating myself. Kept walking, battling my thoughts, staring at the dark sea.
There was this little girl, hardly 4-5 who came to me with little red roses clenched in her little fists and asked me if I could buy one. I looked at her. A lean dusky innocent face, very striking because unlike those street urchins who get used to the grind and harsh realities of life, becoming big and bratty too soon, this one had sadness and it felt like she had been forced to get to work. There were dried tear marks on her cheeks. Lovingly, I asked, "Kitne ka hai?".
"Dus", she replied.
I took one from her and reached out for my pocket to pay. I had one 50 rupee note and one 100 rupee note. I asked her, "Aapke paas change hai?"
"Nahi", she said.
I found myself in an uncomfortable situation. I didn't want to let her go without having bought the rose. I didn't want her to not have achieved what she wanted to. In this case, the objective was as small as selling a rose for mere ten rupees.
For a moment I thought, I can give her 50 for the rose. But then I was like, "50 for 1 rose?That's too much!" I had actually wanted just one and that too for the sake of that little girl. And that feeling was so overwhelming, it just didn't strike me that I could buy 5 roses for 50. The "charity" figure of "rupees 10" was so imprinted in my mind, that when I realized I didn't have 10 rupees, I felt helpless. I felt bad, but I just let her go, saying, "Sorry, dus nahi hai." She didn't say anything and walked away asking the completely lost-in-each-other couple next to me to buy one. And not surprisingly, they were least bothered to even look at her.
Hurriedly I reached for my bag hoping to find the orange I had dropped into it while leaving home.After groping for sometime I realized, I had given it away to an old poor woman at the station on my way.
Somehow, the guilt of not being able to help the child started to fade away. I literally spoke these words to myself , "I did my part today. I gave the old woman something to eat."
I just kept watching the little girl walk from person to person. The sun had set, it grew dark and soon she was out of sight.
Then came the chai wala. I felt elated. "I'll get the change from the chai wala and buy a rose from the little one. I'll give her 20 for 1." I hoped,I prayed the little girl to come back the same route so I could buy from her. I waited, 5 minutes...10 minutes...20 minutes...she didn't come back.
I felt bad. I felt sad. I felt guilty. What stopped me from giving away the fifty rupee note I had in my pocket? And what on earth made me ask her for change? Did she even know the math? We are so occupied with the value of money and making loads of it that losing some of it for a good deed is an action against our programmed minds. Haven't we conditioned our minds against our souls whose inherent nature is to find oneness in all? To connect and to help? Fifty wasn't too much for me, but it would have meant a lot to her.
I got up, hating myself. Kept walking, battling my thoughts, staring at the dark sea.
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