This happens to be my first blog entry ever, thanks to a friend of mine who said she'd read my writing. Probably my last too. A lot of effort for one post but there's something about the blogspot domain that attracts readers like moths to a flame. Anyway...
Yesterday, I didn't feel like playing games after a certain occurrence in the course of my night, no matter how easy they were.
It's strange how seemingly tiny things can have a large impact on someone. This is my story from last night.
The evening was rather turbulent and I found myself wanting to just leave the house and get my mind off work. I met a few friends at a lounge/bar, had a couple to drink and left the place in a good mood. I wanted a quiet, uneventful night and it was given to me.
My brother, a friend and I drove around town looking for some food. It was late and everything was shut. Our last resort was a small restaurant opposite another bar I frequent. We parked and I got out to check if the place was open. It wasn't. I headed back to the car.
An old man stood by the road, yelling at the top of his voice. He yelled about films, politics and policing. Obviously, he caught everybody's eyes... and ears. Wary stares from all directions were angled towards him. He was awfully hard to ignore but since modern social law states that drunk, obnoxious old men in ragged clothing must be ignored, our law abiding citizens on the street did just that. Conditioning works wonders.
He moved slowly. Something was off. I've come across hundreds of drunk people trying to find their way home. I KNOW the drunk walk. He was very different. He reminded me of a lizard on a wall, standing still at a spot for ten minutes, only to turn around, walk in the opposite direction and stop again. However, he just didn't stop yelling. More films, politics and policing.
He tripped and fell on a security guard sitting on the sidewalk. I thought I'd be witness to a beating in the middle of the street. However, the guard too, ignored him. It was the fashionable thing to do.
The old drunk pulled himself back up with a bit of a struggle and resumed his lizard walk. Something was off once again. His walking was still slow but positively steadier than before. The most obvious change - His yelling had stopped. With his speaking volume now set to "Loud enough for conversation within a five feet radius", his demeanor underwent a drastic overhaul.
Pupation of an old drunk, if you will.
He continued walking towards where we had parked. More people had joined us by now and we were talking about things I cannot remember but this old man was always in the corner of my eye. As he drew closer, people shifted uncomfortably to make way for him to pass, careful to not establish any sort of physical contact or stray from the pretense of his non-existence.
I did the same. I was cool. I was socially acceptable.
Collecting colognes and fragrances is a hobby of mine and as a result, I'm rather sensitive to smell. He walked past me but the stench of stale alcohol was absent. The sillage of an inebriated man who walked and behaved like this old person here did just a while ago, would penetrate the air for a few miles around. When he stopped a few feet away, I turned to get a good look at his face, now clearly visible under street lights.
Senile Cataract.
Both eyes hidden behind a milky white shroud of opacity. This put a lot of things into perspective. The lizard walk. The yelling that ceased moments after human touch. The sudden politeness in his speech. The old obnoxious drunk wasn't an.
I think the yelling was his way of testing for human presence. Now that he was closer, he tried talking to us but his voice was drowned out by the sound of car horns. It was time to go. The old man was back on my ignore list. We got into the car and were set to drive away but last minute pity punched me in the face. I borrowed twenty bucks from my friend and got out of the car. As I made my way towards him, reassurance came to me in the form of a tenner between his fingers. A hand out could solve all the problems in the world.
Asking him to hold out his hand, I tried to give him the spare change I had. He'd accept it, I'd do my good deed for the day like a badge seeking boy scout and we could all go home.
Fuck.
I had just given him a confirmation of my presence. The old man stood erect and turned towards me with a kind of poise I've never encountered in my life. The same old man who supposed to play the object of my pity was looking straight at me, the insignificant blur to his eyes, with gratitude and resentment... all at the same time.
He said "Aiyyaa, ennaku onga panam vendaam. aana, naa saaptu moonu naal aachu. Yen kailla irrukira pannatha eduthu, rendu parota vaangi potinga na, ennakku romba sandhoshama irrukum."
Roughly translated, "Sir, I do not want your money. But, it's been three days since I have eaten. If you could kindly take this ten rupees from my hand and buy me two parotas, I'd be very happy."
I didn't. I couldn't. All I could do at that moment was walk away with a hundred thousand thoughts in my head. I felt like the Wrecking Crew had turned me into a pile of rubble. I am a very proud person myself. In all honesty, I take pride in my intelligence, my talents, my knowledge, my attractiveness to the opposite sex, my job and just about everything else I have or do. Conceited? Maybe... but I wasn't afraid of being that way... until now.
Here was an old blind man who could barely walk a few feet without bumping into something but he didn't want my pity. He wanted to pay for his own food. I felt like shit. In an instant, his pride had taken mine down like Rock dismembering Scissors. No contest.
In this self-centered world we live in, Cash has dethroned Ganesha as the remover of obstacles. Yet, there are many issues even He cannot solve. I tried channeling his power but I couldn't feed a hungry old blind man. Failure on my part and His. However, it did get me thinking. If each and every person took two minutes from his or her busy schedules and thought about doing something of value for another human being, the world just might become a better place.
I was incapable of helping the old non-obnoxious non-drunk man last night. Back then, it put a tear in my eye but now, the irony is making me smile. In a matter of minutes, the roles were reversed and I was the one receiving a huge favour. All I could do was hope he didn't go to bed on an empty stomach but he on the other hand, got me writing about things I find important.
Now, I have this tendency of putting up people I admire as my profile pic on facebook. If only I had his.
