Flashback! It was around 2 pm. I sat inside a bus, humming a song on my way back home from school. I handed a 5 rupee coin to the ticket collector as he approached me. He instantly flipped the coin into his pocket and prepared to turn away. Just then, he suddenly glared underneath my seat and yelled so loud that it almost created a tremor inside the bus and the very next instant, he began hurtling expletives like a profound practitioner of the art.
A bare bodied kid crawled out hesitatingly, eyes morose, legs slender, and the whole body shivering under the impact of cold. He was lunged out of the bus at the next stop while I conveniently stepped out, as my home was barely a 5 minutes walk from there. Churned by some empathy, I approached him and inquired about his ordeal. He only gave me a suspicious look (“Why the f**k do you care?”). I insisted further, while he ignored me all the same. Reading his distorted posture, seemingly empty-bellied, I asked him if he wanted to eat something. He instantly nodded yes, realizing that I meant no harm.
Under glaring looks from fellow customers, we sat on a table outside an eatery shop and ordered for two samosas, one each for both of us. The way he munched onto his piece, I inferred, he must have been preserving his hunger the entire day. When a shade of comfort finally settled on his face, I again inquired about his plight. He hesitatingly told me his story, a story common to most street kids, pan-India!
1. An ailing mother and a sister to tend to.. knew nothing about his father!
2. Lived his life by begging.. pick pocketing!
Not in a position to do anything for him or for those millions out on the streets, my heavy heart could only embrace the beginning of a purpose in my life.
Before leaving, when I asked if he wanted more, pat came the reply, “Can I take home two more for mother and sis’?”