Highway of sadness...

I travel to work by the same route every afternoon.Yes,afternoon.I've been on the afternoon shift all this month and that gave me the chance to do a lot more people-watching on the way to work.In the morning shifts,it wasn't really possible considering that there aren't too many people out on the streets at that unearthly hour.Also I'd spend that 20-minute ride pulling my eyelids apart at regular intervals.But now,however, the city is halfway through it's day by the time I start mine.

There are two sights I come across everyday.A female beggar with a bad leg is one of them.I'm not quite sure what is wrong but her left leg is always in a cast-like covering,from the knee all the way down to the ankle.And she moves around with a crutch.A cynic's impulse would be to consider her a fraud who begs from sympathetic people.But somehow I can't really bring myself to think of her that way.It will be apparent why,when one takes a look at her face.Her eyes are always dull and she constantly wears a look of misery.She also contorts her face in pain frequently.

The other is a beggar on the pavement just outside my offfice.He looks like he has serious malnutrition issues.He is painfully scrawny and his back is badly bent.I've never found the courage to look at his face or his limbs to see what state they are in.He has a stainless steel container that he uses to catch the attention on passers-by by knocking on the pavement.

Yesterday it rained hard in the afternoon.As soon as I woke from my 'power nap', the storm clouds gathered in a jiffy and within five minutes it was pouring.The rain God must be one heck of a cheeky blighter.After gathering my anti-downpour weapons (namely my brother's windcheater and Amma's embarrassing John's koda) I set off to work.

I saw her first.She sat under the Egmore bridge, seeking shelter from the rain.She wore her miserable expression and massaged her bad leg.I couldn't figure out if the droplets running down her face were the raindrops or her tears.

I looked around for the man with the bad back when I got close to the office.He wasn't there.The puddle water from the road kept spilling onto the pavement in murky brown waves.I wondered where he was taking refuge.

He was back today again at his usual place, knocking his container on the ground with an alarming clunk clunk.People stopped by sometimes to drop a coin into his container with a loud clatter.The others just walked on either out of indifference or out of a sense of helplessness that their meagre change was not a permanent solutions to this man's strife.A sense of helplessness that I can identify with.People give him change out of pity.But how much is that rupee or two really going to help him or others like him?If only there was something one could do to really lend them a helping hand that galvanizes them on their way past poverty.

This reminds me of an argument I once had with a friend.A heated argument with Abhishek whether "whatever happens is for the good" or not.Being the self-righteous bum that I was back then,I told him that I agreed with the cliched phrase.He reacted in apparent anger and said "what about the plight of the millions who are suffering around the world?" I managed to provide some weak,ineffective replies then but now the argument is vivid in my memory.

No,life isn't fair and I guess it wasn't meant to be that way.But as long as the scales are tipping in your favour,I suppose you might as well be grateful.