The Fake Beggar

 

ImageOn my way back home, the car stopped at the signal. That’s when I saw her for the first time. Sitting on the pavement, shabbily dressed and with her head bowed down. She suddenly looked up at the traffic and got up. Her hair, oily, like they hadn’t been washed in years fell on her forehead and over her wide lost eyes, with which she was scanning all the cars. She slowly started approaching them, on a closer look I saw tears in her eyes. She reached up with one hand and wiped them off and with the other hand spread forward, she went from one car to the next, begging people for help. She looked utterly helpless. People turned their heads to the other side when she approached their car. I could see grief in her eyes and wondered what could possibly be the reason behind her tears. But before I could do anything the signal went green. I found myself thinking about it the whole day. I talked to my mother about her and she said it was just one of the tricks these beggars pull now a days. I didn’t believe her for a second for I truly thought I felt her pain and that she wasn’t faking it.

The next day, at the same time, same route while coming back from my university I saw her again. The same spot, same clothes, same face and the same tears. Surprised at the revelation that my mother was actually right, I rolled down the window and waved at her to come over and when she did, I gave her some money and asked her why was she crying. She replied through her sobs that she didn’t have enough money to feed her children. I told her that so was the case with every other beggar but I didn’t see them crying for sympathy. And then I left. But what do you know? A few days later the car stops at the same signal again, and there she is crying, again.

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Posted on March 29, 2013, in Society and Literature and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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