A Question..

Winters in Allahabad can be very harsh. Yes, it was one of those early morning intense chill in the month of Jan, when I was getting out of our Officers Mess. The party in the evening was a great show. Guests ate well, danced, made merry and left for their home late night laughing and admiring. I was the last to leave since being the Mess secretary, I was to take toll of the party and its upshots with Mess staff.

Time was 1.30 AM, which was quite late. Down with couple of whisky and slight headache, I was in a demented state. My mind was mulling over the problems I was likely to face in the office later in the day. It was a foggy outdoor, not a soul discernible anywhere till my vision length. Neon lit road with absolute silence was somewhat scary. The warmth of car heater was the sole comfort. Just when I was taking a turn out of my Mess gate for my home, I noticed something,something, which to me appeared weird.

Right across the road on the opposite side, a beggar, in tattered state was crossing the road over to my side. His unkempt beard, messy hair and resigned state while sitting on that roller cart was distinctly discernible to me. He was using his hands to push that cart across the road. As he came little closer, I realized the man didn’t have legs. Poverty plainly is such a big curse on human, but I had never seen it in this form hitherto. The sight was appalling and emotive. Even the warm enclosure of my car wasn’t adequate to contain my despair in that winter chill, and to see this fellow human, with nothing on as shield for his body, with no legs to stand, pushing that small flat cart on rollers with his bare hands was incredible.

Intrigued, I stopped my car and watched him mystified. I could see him clearly under the street light now. He was pushing the cart ahead, taking a petite break and was back slowly with his grueling task. Finally he crossed the road. I saw him clearly while he passed by my car door. I could feel my pulse quivering witnessing his dismal state. He advanced further and suddenly stopped, turning his head straight towards me. He looked straight into my eyes. A chill went through my veins. I felt he could see my eyes even through semi dark closed window pane of my car. He looked at me probably for a second or two, our eyes locked. And then he smiled and turned his face back again resuming his sluggish movement. I saw him going away till I couldn’t see him further. Transfixed for a while,I started for my home again bemused.

Lying on my bed, trying to catch sleep, I felt restless in my room . What was that which was graveling me? What was that which was coercing me to bear in mind those piercing eyes of that unknown face? Why was I anxious? And then I saw it. Realization downed and I felt it. Why couldn’t I see it earlier? YES,that underprivileged soul apparently had nothing worthwhile for him from this life, had every reason to anathemize his creator, for the state he was in. He probably didn’t know if he will survive the following day, and YET still, had a reason to ‘SMILE’ and smile at me. What was that which made him smile? Was he trying to convey something to me? Or was it some chance illusion created by my own self trying to get out of my own quagmire?

If he could find a reason to smile in that state, am I justified to have a reason to feel low at any stage of my life? Should I ever feel disenchanted for what I have with me or what God has given me so far? Shouldn’t I be thankful for what I am?

I have no clue and perhaps would never know!!!!