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I got down from the bus and walked towards the ATM. It
was around 7 pm and I had a list of articles in my hand that I intended to
purchase from the kothi (old Hyderabad) market. Before I could step inside the
ATM cabin, someone patted on my shoulder. I turned back and saw a scrawny
fellow with friendly smile. He was in full pant and half shirt, wearing a
glass, front two teeth was missing. He must be more than sixty years old.
‘Yes, what do you want?’-I asked. There was some irritation in my voice.
In very soft and gentle voice he replied –‘could you spare few seconds for me? ‘
He was so polite in his reply that I regretted why I spoke a bit harshly. His reply had a magic spell on me. I reciprocated him in the same tone.
‘Yes uncle, what can I do for you?’
The ATM was near by a petrol pump and just beside the pump, one bench was there.
Pointing towards the bench he asked, – ‘Could you please come over there?’
I followed him and both of us sat on that bench.
He started –‘My name is Rajendran (he told his full name but I could remember only Rajendran). I am a retired person. My hometown is Warangal. I had some work in government hospital. The work is over but when I came out from the hospital and put my hand in my pocket, I found my money was missing. There was four hundred rupees in my pocket; it seems somebody stole my money. I do not know any soul in the city. I have not eaten anything since morning. I wanted to purchase my medicine but now I cannot. I do not know how I will go to Warangal, my home town’.
He took my both hand in his hand, spoke pleadingly, - ‘Son, you can only help me out. I will not forget your help entire my life. Please help me’. After he finished, he started rubbing his eyes, as if trying to wipe tears from the eyes.
I was in fix. I was not prepared for such story. How I should react to this person-, I asked myself. Just a moment ago, I have addressed him uncle and I was polite to him. After hearing his story, I wanted to escape from there but there was no way out. He was almost weeping before me, looking at me with hope.
I got up from the bench and said – ‘uncle, I have many works to do. I have sympathy for you, but I am afraid, I will not be able to help you. It is better if you ….’
‘Do you know Hindi?’- He asked.
Yes, I know very well, I am from Bihar. I replied.
‘I am also from north only. My father was working in Jamshedpur, Tata Company. When he retired, I joined Tata. Until retirement, I was there only. From last three years, I have been in Warangal. I do not find peace here. I miss Jamshedpur a lot.’ Then he added- son, please help me. Today is the worst day of my life, feeling very embarrassed to beg like this.
I was moved to hear his last sentence. One portion of my heart was telling that he was a fraud; other was telling he might be genuine. Anyway, I changed my mind and decided to help him.
‘How much money do you require?’I asked.
‘Four hundred. If I get three hundred than also I can manage with it’. There was relief in his voice.
I withdrew the money and handed over three hundred rupees to him. When he asked my mobile number and address, I refused to give him.
‘Do not worry. I do not want it back.’ – But he was adamant.
‘A dignified person does not want to owe anyone. Son, give me your address, as soon as I reach Warangal, I will send that money through money order’.
When he vehemently insisted, I gave my address. At that time, I was a student, staying in hotel cum guesthouse of the institution. Till one month of that incident, I waited for money order, I would inquired about it (money order) from the receptionist of the guest house and the post man. After that, I stopped inquiring.
Around six month of that incidence, again I went to kothi for some purchasing. Out of curiosity, I visited the place where I met with Mr. Rajendran . To my surprise, he was on that bench with a middle-aged person, telling him the story. When he saw me, he stood up, spoke something hastily to that person and strode away in opposite direction.
I talked to the person who was sitting on the bench. Mr. Rajendran was telling him the similar story expect that his native place and name. This time for that person, he was from Karnataka and his name was something else. I just laughed and left the place.
The night I helped Mr. Rajendran, I narrated the story to one of my friends. He told me ‘I do not know, whether he was a fraud or genuine, as he mentioned it was his worst day of life, you did a right job helping him ‘. I still feel I gave a right help to a wrong person.
~~~ Ramanuj Dubey
‘Yes, what do you want?’-I asked. There was some irritation in my voice.
In very soft and gentle voice he replied –‘could you spare few seconds for me? ‘
He was so polite in his reply that I regretted why I spoke a bit harshly. His reply had a magic spell on me. I reciprocated him in the same tone.
‘Yes uncle, what can I do for you?’
The ATM was near by a petrol pump and just beside the pump, one bench was there.
Pointing towards the bench he asked, – ‘Could you please come over there?’
I followed him and both of us sat on that bench.
He started –‘My name is Rajendran (he told his full name but I could remember only Rajendran). I am a retired person. My hometown is Warangal. I had some work in government hospital. The work is over but when I came out from the hospital and put my hand in my pocket, I found my money was missing. There was four hundred rupees in my pocket; it seems somebody stole my money. I do not know any soul in the city. I have not eaten anything since morning. I wanted to purchase my medicine but now I cannot. I do not know how I will go to Warangal, my home town’.
He took my both hand in his hand, spoke pleadingly, - ‘Son, you can only help me out. I will not forget your help entire my life. Please help me’. After he finished, he started rubbing his eyes, as if trying to wipe tears from the eyes.
I was in fix. I was not prepared for such story. How I should react to this person-, I asked myself. Just a moment ago, I have addressed him uncle and I was polite to him. After hearing his story, I wanted to escape from there but there was no way out. He was almost weeping before me, looking at me with hope.
I got up from the bench and said – ‘uncle, I have many works to do. I have sympathy for you, but I am afraid, I will not be able to help you. It is better if you ….’
‘Do you know Hindi?’- He asked.
Yes, I know very well, I am from Bihar. I replied.
‘I am also from north only. My father was working in Jamshedpur, Tata Company. When he retired, I joined Tata. Until retirement, I was there only. From last three years, I have been in Warangal. I do not find peace here. I miss Jamshedpur a lot.’ Then he added- son, please help me. Today is the worst day of my life, feeling very embarrassed to beg like this.
I was moved to hear his last sentence. One portion of my heart was telling that he was a fraud; other was telling he might be genuine. Anyway, I changed my mind and decided to help him.
‘How much money do you require?’I asked.
‘Four hundred. If I get three hundred than also I can manage with it’. There was relief in his voice.
I withdrew the money and handed over three hundred rupees to him. When he asked my mobile number and address, I refused to give him.
‘Do not worry. I do not want it back.’ – But he was adamant.
‘A dignified person does not want to owe anyone. Son, give me your address, as soon as I reach Warangal, I will send that money through money order’.
When he vehemently insisted, I gave my address. At that time, I was a student, staying in hotel cum guesthouse of the institution. Till one month of that incident, I waited for money order, I would inquired about it (money order) from the receptionist of the guest house and the post man. After that, I stopped inquiring.
Around six month of that incidence, again I went to kothi for some purchasing. Out of curiosity, I visited the place where I met with Mr. Rajendran . To my surprise, he was on that bench with a middle-aged person, telling him the story. When he saw me, he stood up, spoke something hastily to that person and strode away in opposite direction.
I talked to the person who was sitting on the bench. Mr. Rajendran was telling him the similar story expect that his native place and name. This time for that person, he was from Karnataka and his name was something else. I just laughed and left the place.
The night I helped Mr. Rajendran, I narrated the story to one of my friends. He told me ‘I do not know, whether he was a fraud or genuine, as he mentioned it was his worst day of life, you did a right job helping him ‘. I still feel I gave a right help to a wrong person.
~~~ Ramanuj Dubey
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