Inflation. The word seems to have gained popularity and favour with almost every other Indian picking up the newspaper, sipping away tenaciously at his early morning brew. Rising food prices, global crises, political scams, crumbling infrastructure, errant markets, nothing seems to be going our way. The common man shifts to page 16 for the business section of the newspaper, to review rates, how has the rupee fared against the dollar, where did the Nifty close, what do research analysts say about FII spending. In our quest to gain knowledge and therein be able to better equip ourselves in dealing with the feeling of impending doom, we want to cram up all that comes our way. Discussions over tea breaks, office colleagues, the adjoining shopkeeper, everyone is worried about "inflation". We are no longer the ignorant populace we once were, blindly believing the nation was on the path to prosperity unconditionally, we get involved, discuss and even participate in the development of policies and opinions that drive this country.
Proud? Elated? Satisfied with the sense of accomplishment and belongingness to a higher meaning than your own measly existence? While we continue to crib about quadrupling of onion and tomato prices, as we cut down on consumption, choosing to deposit more in the banks, buying more of the yellow metal, there is something that catches my attention everytime I get to a local train station, and yet almost always slips my mind the moment I get out. As far as I can remember, when I was a kid, clutching onto my mom's hand, toddling out of the temple, my mom passed me a couple of rupee coins, to drop into each of the bowls dangling at the ends of hands that reminded me of decaying carcass on Nat Geo. Mom has always had the habit of sympathising with beggars, something that moved me early on in my childhood, to the extent I resolved to build a huge palace and keep all the poor and needy in there, serve them, end their sufferings, something my brother doesn't let me hear the end of as he continues laughing at my naivety even to this day. You could not blame a kid to think the poor people of this world were restricted to the ones he saw in his neighbourhood. That "noble" thought though no longer a possibility, still survives in a willingness to part with whatever little can be managed in helping those in need. Now you must be wondering if I am here to show off and brag about how I give back to society. Alas, I wish I could have written a narcissistic post and not the one am building right now, for it would have spared me the disappointment I have oft suffered when thinking of people as compassionate beings.
I still remember the clank of the coins in their dented containers always changed the mood, if only momentarily, they'd fold their hands in appreciation, smile weakly, and get back to their gloomy faces to wring the next person's conscience in offering them something or the other. Its been around 15-20 years since. Salaries have risen, the standard of living affords teenagers to have their own cars, mobile phones have become commonplace, people are moving away towards the countryside into farm houses and bungalows, tomato and onion prices are sky rocketing. The beggars remain. That, however, is not the issue of contention. What bothers me is that when it comes to giving alms, people just froze at the one rupee coin as the standard, probably graduating to a two rupee one just to get into the good books of the Almighty. A blind woman singing walking down the train compartment attracts 3-4 donations of a rupee each, while a bloke with dismembered limbs dragging himself across the footboard might just get a bonus of an occasional 2-er somewhere in the middle. Now just think of what all you can buy for a rupee or two in today's world. We are not talking eclairs or chewing gum here. It is a question of subsistence, survival. Drawing a blank? Consider even if they all pool their money together and come up with a healthy collection of Rs. 100, does that suffice to feed and care for 10 people for a day?
We quarrel and bargain for that extra one rupee with the vegetable vendor, the rickshaw driver, unwilling to part away with it when a beggar swings by, more often than not hiding behind the common excuse of "arre they do not want to work baba!! You don't know these people, they just want it easy and beg!!" My dear friend, I would like you to live a beggar's life for 10 minutes and show me the easy parts of it. I am not here to advocate giving or denying alms. It is a question of individual prudence. What I do care for is the intention when you give alms. Don't do it to pacify a misplaced sense of "responsibility" and "pity", drop in a coin and wipe your hands of it; "there my good deed for the day is done". Think how inconsequential you just made the person feel, how your contribution doesn't do much by way of helping him other than possibly making him believe today just might be different. Cut loose a 10er and drop it into their container. Better still, try looking at the contentment on their faces when you get them a chilled ice-cream on a hot scorching day for a meager 5er!
I tend to get carried away when it comes to criticism or cynicism, especially when I get to question the truth behind people's actions. It was this inquisition that inadvertently led me to question one of the ladies leaving a temple in Mumbai, who after donating a crisp 500 rupee note to the priest asking him to bless her family through some mumbo-jumbo recital, when surrounded by a couple of kids asking for prasad and money shooed them away by throwing a couple of coins in their direction. Five hundred for something you do not even know exists, or rather just have faith in, and just a couple of coins for something tangible right in front of your eyes? If only people understood you can't buy your way into heaven, you earn it through the deeds and actions enacted during your mortal existence on the face of this earth, right here, right now.
An action taken for pure sense of personal satisfaction, misconstrued as an act of charity, never has or ever shall make you an ambassador of humanity.
PS: I drew inspiration for this post not half an hour ago when a lady looked at me with contempt as I slipped a 10er into the trembling hands of an old woman begging on the sidewalk. Bandra still has its anomalies.
Proud? Elated? Satisfied with the sense of accomplishment and belongingness to a higher meaning than your own measly existence? While we continue to crib about quadrupling of onion and tomato prices, as we cut down on consumption, choosing to deposit more in the banks, buying more of the yellow metal, there is something that catches my attention everytime I get to a local train station, and yet almost always slips my mind the moment I get out. As far as I can remember, when I was a kid, clutching onto my mom's hand, toddling out of the temple, my mom passed me a couple of rupee coins, to drop into each of the bowls dangling at the ends of hands that reminded me of decaying carcass on Nat Geo. Mom has always had the habit of sympathising with beggars, something that moved me early on in my childhood, to the extent I resolved to build a huge palace and keep all the poor and needy in there, serve them, end their sufferings, something my brother doesn't let me hear the end of as he continues laughing at my naivety even to this day. You could not blame a kid to think the poor people of this world were restricted to the ones he saw in his neighbourhood. That "noble" thought though no longer a possibility, still survives in a willingness to part with whatever little can be managed in helping those in need. Now you must be wondering if I am here to show off and brag about how I give back to society. Alas, I wish I could have written a narcissistic post and not the one am building right now, for it would have spared me the disappointment I have oft suffered when thinking of people as compassionate beings.
I still remember the clank of the coins in their dented containers always changed the mood, if only momentarily, they'd fold their hands in appreciation, smile weakly, and get back to their gloomy faces to wring the next person's conscience in offering them something or the other. Its been around 15-20 years since. Salaries have risen, the standard of living affords teenagers to have their own cars, mobile phones have become commonplace, people are moving away towards the countryside into farm houses and bungalows, tomato and onion prices are sky rocketing. The beggars remain. That, however, is not the issue of contention. What bothers me is that when it comes to giving alms, people just froze at the one rupee coin as the standard, probably graduating to a two rupee one just to get into the good books of the Almighty. A blind woman singing walking down the train compartment attracts 3-4 donations of a rupee each, while a bloke with dismembered limbs dragging himself across the footboard might just get a bonus of an occasional 2-er somewhere in the middle. Now just think of what all you can buy for a rupee or two in today's world. We are not talking eclairs or chewing gum here. It is a question of subsistence, survival. Drawing a blank? Consider even if they all pool their money together and come up with a healthy collection of Rs. 100, does that suffice to feed and care for 10 people for a day?
We quarrel and bargain for that extra one rupee with the vegetable vendor, the rickshaw driver, unwilling to part away with it when a beggar swings by, more often than not hiding behind the common excuse of "arre they do not want to work baba!! You don't know these people, they just want it easy and beg!!" My dear friend, I would like you to live a beggar's life for 10 minutes and show me the easy parts of it. I am not here to advocate giving or denying alms. It is a question of individual prudence. What I do care for is the intention when you give alms. Don't do it to pacify a misplaced sense of "responsibility" and "pity", drop in a coin and wipe your hands of it; "there my good deed for the day is done". Think how inconsequential you just made the person feel, how your contribution doesn't do much by way of helping him other than possibly making him believe today just might be different. Cut loose a 10er and drop it into their container. Better still, try looking at the contentment on their faces when you get them a chilled ice-cream on a hot scorching day for a meager 5er!
I tend to get carried away when it comes to criticism or cynicism, especially when I get to question the truth behind people's actions. It was this inquisition that inadvertently led me to question one of the ladies leaving a temple in Mumbai, who after donating a crisp 500 rupee note to the priest asking him to bless her family through some mumbo-jumbo recital, when surrounded by a couple of kids asking for prasad and money shooed them away by throwing a couple of coins in their direction. Five hundred for something you do not even know exists, or rather just have faith in, and just a couple of coins for something tangible right in front of your eyes? If only people understood you can't buy your way into heaven, you earn it through the deeds and actions enacted during your mortal existence on the face of this earth, right here, right now.
An action taken for pure sense of personal satisfaction, misconstrued as an act of charity, never has or ever shall make you an ambassador of humanity.
PS: I drew inspiration for this post not half an hour ago when a lady looked at me with contempt as I slipped a 10er into the trembling hands of an old woman begging on the sidewalk. Bandra still has its anomalies.
