Saturday, February 7, 2009

The Mendicant of Kumarswamy Layout

It would have been either that 50 paisa or 1 re coin that kept his hope alive. We (My friend and I ) didn’t remember when we dropped the hope in his aluminum bowl, but it was indeed that penny which made his hope intact, to urge for a 50 aana those uncountable times.

In those 3 years we saw him at the same place with same bowl and in similar torn cloths on the same mat which was made by stitching 3 or 4 empty cement bags together.

We did some time wonder that where he goes in evening to sleep. Although we always saw him there sitting at the other end of the police station. And any chance of existence of any relative or family looked quite remote for him. Even the shop keeper around the Kumarswami layout saw him like that for years.

We often laughed about the little ambience which he had created around him. He had his simple little luxuries, that 2 liter Thumbs Up bottle, wrapped up in wet jute cloth piece to keep the water cool in hot days. He always kept that bottle near him. In many ways he was more disciplined and professional at his work than us.

We often passed by him hastily in morning and afternoon, more due to worry about missing our attendance than the missing the lecture. Whenever he saw us he used to utter “Annaaa” (brother) and raise his bowl towards us.

We indeed remember giving him a penny some time, but never after that. We used to look at each other with a slight broaden lips (smile) and move hastily. We had somehow the feeling that he looked too old for his age and if he could have wanted, he could have worked somewhere and made some money. We sometime discussed how the much older people than him pulled rickshaw in our native and old chaps sell cigarettes and tea near our college, and made money. Moreover we didn’t see any visible physical disability in him.

But we perhaps had forgotten that his biggest disability was, he was growing older and older.

Then one day when we woke up in ungodly hours of 5 am with full zeal to enjoy the next 3-4 days trip to Ooty and Bandipur (Which was indeed a different experience, spending 3-4 days seeing those faces which we always saw in lecture rooms), we raced passed the ground zero of our ignorance. Our eyes searched for that talking statue that was always there intact like poverty in India. And then we saw something that was more interesting than Sherlock Holmes’s investigation breakthroughs.

He was coming out of the Matador which was kept beside the Police stations for years. The Matador, which some people called haunted, some called accidental and nobody came claiming it. It was those kind of vehicle whose parts are taken out (by police or thief’s no one knows :)) as day passes and finally police sells it to Kabadiwali in Kg’s.

We couldn’t stop talking about what we saw that morning, throughout our journey.
Many days, months of ignorance passed by, He pleading for a penny and we ignoring and making our way towards college. Sometime we thought “ Are we turning cruel day by day?” But at the same time we knew that it wasn’t true, as we did donate and tossed the coins in bowls of beggars.

May be the beggar of Kumarswamy was lacking something in creating that misery look or plea which most of us examine before tossing the coins. Or perhaps our eyes had become so habitual of seeing him in that place that it ignored him as he ever existed there.

One day, when we were at the verge of losing our attendance and were sprinting towards college, we didn’t heard “Annaa….”. We turned our heads north, looking towards his spot curiously, his bottle and other belonging were there but he was absent. Perhaps he was taking a break or had gone to take breakfast, we wheezed hurriedly.

Next day when we had learnt and realized our laziness to start late to college, we determined to start early. We walked slowly and comfortably that road like a over fed elephant. We looked around and saw that a new fast food restaurant was coming up at round the corner. We looked towards each other and laughed because that meant a lot to us.

It meant a break from Sai Sagar’s Idly Sambhar. Though we were curious about the price. Rs 5 was the budget for our Idly Sambhar breakfast and any stretch on that price meant skipping of our Rs 3 hot coffee.

When we passed by Kumarswamy Police station, we didn’t see him again. His stuff and luxuries were still there but without him. We realized that something wrong with us, looked like we were poking too much in other life, be it a mendicant or EC (Electronic Circuit) lecturer.

The next day when we passed and looked towards his place, his stuff were not there. Our curious eyes rolled towards the Matador. That bottle, white mat and bowl was kept in front of it. It didn’t took much time to realize that what had really happen to him.

In the remaining days of our college whenever passed that place we could not stop looking towards it. We felt that someone whispering something .

When we tried hearing that whisper it sounded like someone saying “I WAS HERE”.