Colors Of Life.. The Grayer One

I had written this one a couple of years ago.. Keeping a bit busy these days.. But writing few new ones; hope to complete them soon..


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                                                Colors Of Life.. The Grayer One


This is a story of life...  Story of an unnoticed life...  a life as insignificant as it never existed... Life without any colors and without any spontaneous brightness... Story of a grayer shade of life...

It was my first vacation after joining the college and I was happy going back to home specially “Holi” was round the corner. After 24 hours long train journey it was really great to set the foot on the platform and head towards the Railway station exit where familiar Auto stand was waiting. After a little bargain, I got inside an auto with my two large bags.  The auto threaded in and out of the narrow lanes and within 30 minutes I was in front of the New Market Street at the end of which was my home.

I paid the bill, picked up my bags and as soon as I turned to walk I saw a wobbly hand extend itself towards me.  I looked straight ahead of me, trying to avoid looking at him, trying to ignore his presence and averting my gaze. It was pretty much the same reaction in which most of us pretend to turn blind whenever such miserable unfortunate people approach us with an empty hand but a heart full of hope.

The most common thing which we tend to do when asked for help is, to either check our pocket for coins or to ignore the call for help. So I too found myself fishing inside my pocket for some coins. But there wasn’t any. The minimum that I had was a Rs. 50 note which had been returned by the Auto driver after I had paid him the bill.  

“It’s really disgusting!!” I felt. “I am coming back to home after 6 months and this is what is welcoming me!!”

“Why don’t these people do some work and earn money? People shouldn’t beg”, I said to myself. Then I picked up my bags and started walking. Behind me, the old man was retracting my steps almost close to my heels. I wished I had some coins to get rid of this trouble but there wasn’t any!

The more insistent he grew, the more adamant my refusal became. Now he was almost pleading. I paced up my walk and to my relief discovered that he had stopped following me.

It was the third day since I had come back to home. I had some work in New Market. While returning back, I again saw the old beggar, sitting cross-legged in the sun, his head bowed and his hand cupped on his knee. Then I noticed that portion below his left knee was missing. I recalled the question which I had asked myself on previous day, “Why don’t these people do some work and earn money?” I had got my answer.

I found myself walking towards him. I was in front of him and then I realized that I didn’t have any coins with me again! I slowly tried to retreat from there. But it was too late. He looked up and saw me while reaching out his hand asking for money. He was a skinny person who must be in his late fifties. But his disfigured face, tattered clothes, and ruffled gray hair made him look even older. He was looking silently towards me with his blank eyes. Eyes without any expression, not even pain. It was really scary to see a living human being in such a condition. The old man clinging on his walking stick standing barefoot on his one leg was still looking at me, but now he was not asking for money. I guess, his instinct had told him that I was going to give him alms. Experience, I thought.. I had a fifty rupee note in my purse apart from the two ten rupee note in my pocket.

I saw myself handing over the money to him and regretted that I didn't have more to give to him. The poor fellow was really awe-stuck! I couldn’t stand there any more and turned back towards the way back home. 

For rest of my walk, I was thinking about the old beggar. It was such a pity to see a human being live in such a condition. “Does he have a name?” I thought, “He must be having one”, I answered for my silly question. “How it must be to live like this? Getting reduced to being a lump of flesh and blood without any identity. Living all alone day and night on a pavement without anyone to talk with, without anyone to share your feelings. He too must have been born some day, must have grew up with some hopes and dreams, no matter how small and how insignificant. It’s for sure that he must have never thought that he will live a life like this! What kind of dreams he must be having when he is asleep? What if he gets scared in his sleep due to some bad and scary dream? Does he have a family? If yes then did they desert him? If yes then why? ”. A hell lot of questions were coming in my mind...

For next couple of days I made sure to pass that pavement a couple of times everyday and give a share of my pocket money to the old man. While giving him the money, I used to think about the options which the old man had to have a better life. But I couldn’t come up with anything practical. It’s really strange that in a country which is talking about economic reforms and growth, there are people whose life is so miserable. There must be millions of such people who live a faceless life… life without any identity. “Do these people have their name in the Voter’s List? For most of such people, I guess no. So these people don’t have any identity in their own country!"

It was Holi the next day. I was happy and excited for the colors and fun which was in store. Like every year, sweets were being prepared at home and I thought of taking some to the old man. I didn’t have to walk to him as I found him begging in our street only. I called him and after few minutes I was sitting in my porch with the old man sitting a few meters away from me. I took out the plastic bag in which I had wrapped the sweets and offered them to the old man. His eyes widened, and like a new friend, he slowly shortened our distance apart. He took a sweet and silently ate it. Then he ate fast as a hungry kid would do. I had never seen anyone eating in this manner. I looked into a pair of hunger ridden eyes and could almost feel my hunger hit me with a vengeance.

Hunger…that kills slowly like a slow poison… hunger that kind of does a protest at our insides… hunger that constantly reminds us of deficiency of food with its pin prick stabs… hunger that makes even the most tasteless, cold and stale food taste as delicious multi course meal… hunger that turns u weak and makes u want to keep aside the principles for a while and get rid of it somehow, no matter how! Because practically, it’s much easier to battle with morals than an empty stomach. Empty stomach makes conscience take a back seat. 

I was sitting… lost in thought… the view around me a blurred haze. So deep was my thought that it took me a while before I realized someone was talking to me... I turned my eyes to the old man and saw him thanking me silently with gratitude in his eyes. I saw his bare foot which was badly bruised and I decided to add slippers to the list of the things which I will give to the old man in coming week because the pavement he lives on must be cold and his feet might get hurt. He got up and walked away. Little did I know that it was for the last time when I am seeing him alive?

How can life be so unfair? It gives so much to many and there are people, who are not so lucky and definitely not among the favorite children of destiny, who live in despair.  These are the people who live for today, who can't afford to dream. Dreaming is a luxury, life a mountain of struggle with all the steps slippery. They can think of tomorrow only and not the day after. They sleep under the sky, no matter how cold it is, with nothing to protect them in rain. They need to fight with street dogs to have their share of food!! This is what life has to offer to them. Poor old man belonged to this unfortunate genre. I was really forced to think, “What is the fault of this person for which he is suffering so much!!”.  

Life is really a great mystery. It is romantic but never sentimental; merciful but also unexpectedly cruel. In early hours next day, the Old man was run over by a speeding car which was probably being driven by some drunken people who were may be a bit over enthusiastic about celebrating the Holi. It’s difficult to say if he died on spot or if he could have been saved had he got the medical attention on time. But who cares? Who cares about a person whose presence was non-existent. I don’t know how much the people who run him over regret about it. The only thing which I fail to understand is how can anyone run over people- and not even care to look back if he can be saved? If his pulses are still intact, if his heart is still beating. - And instead leave him to bleed to death? This is not a lapse in morality; this is the disturbing absence of humanity.

When I went to see him, his body was lying in his own pool of blood. May be "God" decided to be merciful to him and put an end to his sufferings. He lived blindfolded along the contours of life, completely out of synchronization with rest of the world, just like an uprooted branch of a tree, hanging lifelessly and his death didn’t made any difference either. No one mourned. It was just an insignificant life which had come to an end....