Suddenly a knock on windowpane. No! A begging lady with an infant swaddled in rags draws my attention to her. Her face spells out abject destitute and the rest of her agree in unison. The child is bundled in a rag-bag tied to her side while he sleeps away the meticulations of his mother's ministrations. In a hope to evoke sympathy she plays peek-a-boo with her child and my eyes, switching between covering him up and displaying him for my benefit.
My heart responds with the emotion the lady wishes to evoke and begins to ache at the sight. My brain twitches into attention begging for me to retain attention at the red dot of passage. My body with its separate appendages leans forward to fork out a few coins to alleviate the rigor mortise my heart is suddenly heading towards.
One rupee is what I would have ended up giving the lady had it not been for the signal that turned green heralding me towards my destination and her lossful resignation. As I proceed forward, I cannot but help looking into the rear view mirror to ensure she reaches the sidewalk safely. A penny lost should not be the reason for other greater miseries .
While I reach work, the thought of the persistent lady, her baby, and my apathy keeps replaying in the dark realms of my mind. So I did not dole out alms. What did I do and not do in doing so? Did I deprive her of a contribution, a meal, a livelihood, or a fortune? I definitely didn't think so. Would I have felt a loss had I given her that coin? Again, definitely not. So what stopped me?
Was it the understanding that what she would have got from me and the multitude of others who have already or will give her their coinage would not be hers to keep. Rather it would be her ticket to continue work in this zone of controlled monopoly where alms convert loose change into hot cash in the wee hours of the day.
