Charity's another face

The needy were in big numbers as poverty caught one’s eye faster than anything else in the city. The trouble for me was now to find the neediest person — I knew what most of these beggars were like; how they abused alms to buy dope and alcohol

I had just come out of the gym and was heading towards my car in the parking lot when I saw a hundred rupee note lying on the ground. It looked like to be straight out of the mint as afternoon light shimmered off it. I picked it up in a flash but before long I was torn apart by guilt. For one thing, I had no money issues, so I had no business picking it up. And moreover, I knew that it was someone else’s money and that someone else might have lost a day’s wage in that note.

I also knew it would be impossible to find the owner in a city teeming with people. Even if it wasn’t teeming with people, there was no way to find him, was there? Then another idea confronted me. Why should I bother at all, why couldn’t I just leave the note where I found it and get on with my life? I couldn’t entertain this thought for very long though as it occurred to me that the owner might be poor and might have been retracing his steps in search of his lost money at that very time. What if another person, less scrupulous than me lapped it up and made off with it? So, I waited there a good 30minutes observing people closely about me, looking for signs. Nothing came of it and I gave up the search.

Now the next best thing was for me to give it to someone in need. The needy were in big numbers as poverty caught one’s eye faster than anything else in the city. The trouble for me was now to find the neediest person — I knew what most of these beggars were like; how they abused alms to buy dope and alcohol.

Scrupulous as I was, I decided to change my plans for the rest of the day in order to search for the right person, and I just had to walk a few paces to find a poor woman wrapped up in rags with her two little snotty children playing around. I stood at a little distance to see what they were up to. What I saw I didn’t like at all. I saw the mother instruct the kids to run after the people she chose for them for alms. The woman’s cunning and depravity filled me with disgust. How could she lead her kids into killing their self-respect! However, that feeling was fleeting as I realised hunger was at the centre of it all — what one wouldn’t do for food! Still, I couldn’t persuade myself to part with the money then and there.

I decided to move on, to continue with my search. It was a leper I came across next. But I didn’t dare go closer to him as he was rolling on the floor with vulgarity oozing out of his yellow eyes. I didn’t look at the leper again. The next was an old lady, rather an ugly one with a pock-marked face coated with soot. No way was I going to relieve myself of my papery burden here. Though, I was quick to scold myself for looking for beauty and elegance in people who are forever in want of food.

By now the infamous Delhi cold had got to me. I wanted to get it over with. I decided whoever caught my attention next will have the money so that I could go home. I came across a few more needy-looking people but again I couldn’t bring myself to give it away for one reason or another. I became irritated — more at my inability to find the right person than anything else.

Suddenly, a waft of a romantic air — very well known to me — reached my ears and I saw a man – looking rather poorly — gently blowing into a flute. I got moved by the sight. He played the air beautifully and I was convinced if anyone deserved the money, it was that artist. Finally, I decided to let go of the note. The artist looked up at me and bowed in a gesture of gratitude taking the money from my hand.

I was ashamed.

I felt that I didn’t deserve that gesture and the torrent of blessings that followed. After all it wasn’t my money. Out of embarrassment, I scurried away from the artist and hid behind a huge pillar some distance off to observe his reaction to the manna from heaven. The flutist had the note in his left hand and was looking heaven-wards. His faith had moved me, an unbeliever of the first order.