When one lives on the streets, I guess life can be hard. I’ve often wondered what kind of self-belief and character people who beg for a living would be made of. I really don’t have a judgment on the issue since I have never faced anything even remotely close to the questions/situations life poses to them.
I made a personal choice to never give beggars money. On my way to work, at a particular traffic signal there’s a bunch of street kids that I buy food for occasionally. They crowd around the car and pester me on most days… on most days I decline but occasionally I’ll allow them into the car. Excitedly they jump in and the ruckus begins. With squeals for the music to be turned louder to the air-conditioning to be redirected, the sheer thrill is palpable… they speak to me in hindi but amongst themselves in strange tongues mixed with Marathi... looking around to see if any of their friends are watching and wave and scream out to them even though the windows are up… the naiveté and easy happiness of children is almost always wonderful to see… Though these kids getting into the car at a traffic signal must often make for a suspicious or curious sight for passers-by.
On this rainy day (today), two of em jumped in… and they were shivering from being soaked to the bone. They wanted chai to keep em warm. So as we went off in the direction of the chai stall they continued to shiver… at the chai stall I gave them money for chai and vada pav (as I didn’t want to get down and there was a lot of traffic) and then even gave them some more money to buy themselves cheap raincoats. I hope they buy them and don’t use the money for anything else. Even if they do, I guess I’ll buy em raincoats again.
I wonder what kinda people they will become as they grow up. Having bought them meals, and on occasion footwear and raincoats, I’ve somehow become attached to them in a tiny small way even though on most days they feel like pests… yet I’ve tiny dreams for them… that they would not stay on the streets for long… that they would not become beggars or prostitutes or thieves or drug addicts… that they would be happy. Though I don’t really do much to actually change any of that.
I watch from the sidelines.
I’m not sure I would do this if it didn’t make me feel good about me. So I’m not being altruistic or anything. In many ways I do it for me. Also I’m not even making a serious attempt or sacrifice at my end. But I know I do want to give back in my own small way. I hope to do that someday. Unselfishly.
And therein lies an irony. There really is no such thing as a true act of kindness. As the charming woman once said, “Cest La Vie”...
Nevertheless, I hope they’re wearing raincoats morrow. And better still, for their sake, I hope it doesn’t even rain.
