It is already noon and in the scorching heat I just cannot afford to take a moment of respite from the back breaking job of moving from window to window and beg. But the sahibs sitting in the cars hardly pay heed to my incessant efforts of getting a coin or two.
I am the only one apart from my mother who goes out and performs this despicable job as my sister takes care of my younger brother who was born last year. Sometimes my mother takes him along so that after seeing the miserable condition of his burnt hand, which was deliberately burnt by our “Bade sahib” to generate sympathy, people might handover some money.
We usually get one rupee or two rupee coins or sometimes a ten rupee note if the man is very benevolent, but then that’s a rare moment. At the end of the day all the money collected is handed over to the “Bade sahib” who gives a small share out of it which is just enough to buy a morsel of bread. Despite the fact that we do our best to get maximum “begged” money, “Bade sahib” derides us for not doing our job properly and asks us to beg more and we have no choice other than to pander to his wishes.
Once we are done for the day, we move towards a bus stand nearby where we sleep, as sleeping is the only ephemeral pleasure we have. But that also isn’t really a pleasure as policemen drive us away by hurling abuses at us and calling us a disgrace to the society. They probably call us a disgrace to the society because of the task we do but do they have aninkling about how hard our life is.
Do they think that it is our disposition that makes us beg and get ridiculed all the time? And how can they abuse my sister and my mother, is this what they do in their civilised sophisticated society. My mother who herself suffers from acute pain in joints sometimes starts crying as she is the only one to shoulder responsibility of our upbringing after my father was run over by a vehicle last year, days after my younger brother was born. She obviously doesn’t like the work we are doing but it’s a Hobson’s choice for us as there is no other way we can feed ourselves. Few months back people were talking about a man called Modi and then there was this man called Kejriwal , I heard on the grapevine that they were the saviours for us and they will change our life only to make it better.
They said that we will get sheltered rooms but so far no change seems to have happened. They might be working in the areas where rich people reside but what about us. We are still among the marginalised sections of the society. The quality of our life is deteriorating inexorably and we are helpless as we really can’t do anything. The nemesis for our suffering is that we are born poor and homeless.
Our existence doesn’t mean anything to the outside world. Few days back when I was on the road begging, I saw a big car that halted just next to the pavement. I hurriedly ran towards the car and knocked on the window. A “memsahib” with big glasses on, was sitting with a young kid, apparently her son. As usual I extended my hand with the hope that she will drop a few coins but I was taken aback by her demeanour. She brutishly asked me to move back and not touch the car, I complied. Moreover the kid in the car snickered at me and this behaviour of the young lad was utterly obfuscating. That was a thought generating incident. It forced me to think that is this how the so called educated, sophisticated, civilised sections treat the people in dire need of support.
I don’t mean that they should empty their pockets for us and nor do I reserve the prerogative of categorically demanding money because it’s their money, they should use it the way they want to but the contemptuous tone in which the lady spoke clearly exuded disdainful feelings. Are we not humans, are we devoid of feelings, don’t we feel bad about our miserable condition? The world should know that I also want to see myself get educated and make a name for myself.
But how do I do it?
We are absolutely deprived of rudimentary needs that are essential for us to live on. Every morning we wake up, unsure if we would manage to feed ourselves at the end of the day. This is our life. I want to concede that we don’t beg because we want to, it’s just that we don’t have an alternative. Some people might think that we should stop begging and work hard to feed ourselves, I concur with the notion, as I myself believe that one cannot hope to spend entire life begging but are those very people willing to help us, will they give the necessary support or will they help us in getting employed as an apprentice so that we can later work independently on our own.
The answer is no because blurting out suggestions is an easy thing to do but no one wants to take the pain for us. But I believe one day I will make my mother’s and my sibling’s life secure, but as of now, I really can’t do much. I will try to bring happiness in our lives to show this cruel world that your support is not required to lead a happy life. Life is too difficult and we have to live on.
Note: It is a fictional account. It has been written assuming how a beggar would explain his condition and misery if ever given a chance to speak out to the world.
