Last Sunday, I was out with my friends from school - Aditya, Astha, Jayanti and Udit; hanging out in Dwarka. Meeting school friends had always been quite a ritual, for we all used to come together whenever Aditya would be in the city. Though rest all of us reside not that far apart, but we hardly used to meet. Count that on the busy schedules and life otherwise we all had been leading. But whenever Aditya would come back from his university in Chennai, it used to be grandeur for we all could be together then. Aditya was to give treat this time for his birthday previous month. So, we all met at Dwarka sector-10 metro station. This was instantly followed by a ceremonial, warm hugging welcome, by each one to each one. Led by the ever puzzled but pretending not to be, friend of ours, Aditya, we traipsed on the eerie roads of Dwarka.
The series of events that followed I prefer not to talk of ‘cause they are not the cause behind my writing. So, I would resume it from here. After offering a sumptuous Italian lunch, Aditya was leading us to some ice-cream parlor. On the way we came across beggars; not two, not three but several. As if lined up in an array.
Well, these beggars, I can’t miss describing. All of them were kids. Girls but one. Mostly in their pre or early adolescence. Don’t know whether they do this on purpose or genuine lack of amenities; they all gave a look of not having bathed since last spring. Their parched skin and the hard sheet of blackening dust defied. Dressed in the shabbiest of the clothes, soiled n tattered. The girls having a rag on their heads. There was a whole flock of these kids, as if were waiting for us only to pass by. But then they catch every passerby. Perhaps only, someone could ever pass without being noticed and approached. They work on a network basis. The leader of the flock would station all to different cites and mentions their place of work where they have to be active enough to let any one just pass by without being caught. These are the road-hit managers, having their own organization to run. If one notice closely, he could judge there could be an in charge of HR, for administration, finance, R&D, so on and so forth, in the whole network. Well, I guess someday IIM’s would be conducting seminars where in these managers of the road would be rendering lectures.
With a much practiced fake, or perhaps, anticipation they would approach you and with their much learnt, and mastered rather, baritone and dialogues, they would ask you for alms and would bless you in the magnitude of pounds. They would follow you to quite a distance. At times even touching your feet. Many a people just to evade such embarrassing moments would give a coin or two to them. At times, when you don’t respond and move on, these kids would curse with something even they would be not knowing the meaning of, but were taught so, or even hit you. Whatever.
That day too, we were, as if stalked by the whole battalion of little beggars. Don’t know why but I have this benevolence for these kids. And this only ends me up having chat with them, every time. I never let a penny out though. This is specifically about the two of them:
First one; a girl having the same above described attire and perhaps of twelve approaches us:
With all her routine dialogues she began to ask for alms.
‘I don’t have money’, I said which I obviously was lying.
But she continued wooing the lambs.
‘Do you go to school?’, I enquired knowing that obviously she wouldn’t be. But this always works for me. Ask about school and they are vanished. I had assumed that she too would just vanish or give a regular ‘NO’ in reply. She indeed said no but what she said along with took me aback or rather I was mesmerized by the innocence with which she replied.
‘Nahi, hum nahi jate par hamare bhaiya jate hain’
Next was the girl in the video below. And just as any other kid of her age would recite a rhyme, she started pleading for alms.
‘Ae de de bhaiya, tumahri jodi achchi rahegi’
Once. Twice. Thrice. And again. And over again. She had taken Jayanti for my partner.
‘She is my sister kid’
But as if she had no attention to what we were saying. She was just repeating her lines. The subtle cuteness of the kid, made me take my phone out and capture her; but just as I started the camera of my phone, I guess she noticed what I was up to and got conscious. May be to the camera. Whatever.
I fear in getting some conclusion out of this. For I don’t know what would it be- mercy, shame, surprise, confusion, anger. Don’t know. I just know this is there.
No comments:
Post a Comment