The Beggar

Jehangir’s hands were rubbing against the coin impatiently.

For the past 20 years, every morning, Jehangir sat on the same footpath near the local train station. His stained tattered shirt was very seasonal. He could feel each and every season through it.

He knew how much a one-rupee coin weighed and also how it was made. He knew it was round with no edges, unlike the 20 paise coin earlier. But they didn’t make any of those now. They only made 25 paise, 50 paise and one rupee coins now. Unlike many other rich beggars, Jehangir made only 6 rupees a day. He always thought that people had gotten used to him by now, and also the fact that he was blind. Once something becomes a part of your everyday life, you take it for granted. He knew that people, who saw him sitting there for the past decade, knew that he could survive without their charity. Initially he felt angry because of his helplessness and the assumptions of people. But slowly and naturally he got used to that.

He never stretched out hands or begged for money. He just sat there, exposing the hollows of his eyes, to people who could see. He heard the footsteps of men, women, kids, stray dogs…everyone.

There were days when he didn’t even get those 6 bucks. But, whenever he managed to collect at least 4 (now 5), he went to the close-by ‘vada pav’ vendor to feed his perennial hunger.

Today was his unlucky day. He had managed to win sympathies from only three passers by, who gave him one coin each. His expert hands quickly surveyed all the three coins. Since the previous morning he had eaten only one rotten piece of bread. Even that was actually a share of the stray dog’s lunch. Jehangir couldn’t even finish one mouthful of it.

The shape of the coins disappointed Jehangir. It brought tears to his eyes. All the three coins were round. 3 rupees. But he decided to go to the vendor and plead him for the remaining 2 bucks.

I was busily munching on the vada pav when Jehangir gave the 3 coins to the vendor and told him a detailed story in order to get the 2 rupee credit. He said he will definitely come and give the 2 rupees tomorrow. The vendor said with a smile, that it was okay, but insisted that Jehangir paid him the balance tomorrow.

Just when I was beginning to believe that humanity is still alive I happened to catch a glimpse of the three coins, which Jehangir had given the vendor, lying on the table. I was startled.

They were 3 brand new 2 rupee coins, which Jehangir’s expert hands had never felt before. The new 2 rupee coins, recently rolled out, are round in shape, unlike their old versions.

The vendor had just duped the beggar for 3 rupees. The remaining two rupees will come to him tomorrow. A profit of 5 rupees.

More than angry, I felt helpless. I took out another 5 rupee coin (for the vada pav I was eating), looked at the vendor and said, “Maaf karo… aur aage badho… mere paas aur change nahi hai.”