Savyasaachi

It had been a hectic day. Continuous hours of postings and classes left my head feeling heavy. I thought of getting myself a cup of tea to get rid of the headache and started walking towards a tea-stall across the street. The sound of rushing vehicles and horns pierced my ears, the noise like a reflection of the stress people bore in their busy life.

As I was about to cross the traffic signal, I saw a young girl, perhaps 7 or 8 years of age, dressed in torn clothes. She looked as though she had lost her color, with only grey shades of dust and smoke remaining. She kept knocking on the windows of cars, waiting for the lights to change, hoping for some change herself, but no one bothered to acknowledge her. The green signal flashed. Though green meant hope to the ones inside vehicles, I could see her little eyes brimming with tears. As I looked on, she disappeared into the smolder of gushing traffic. I continued to walk.

Mysore looked beautiful even in the midst of these. It was Dussehra season. Thousands of light bulbs were ready to illuminate and highlight her beauty. The cold breeze patted my face, like a mother would her child. Stalls selling all kinds of handicrafts, clothing and ornaments stood side-by-side. The aroma of food pulled me towards chat shops like a magnet. I watched as people of all classes hurried towards the eating joints further down the street. I entered one of them and ordered some tea. Wondering how the people inside these shops could stand the smell, I quickly emptied the cup, took my wallet and paid for it. Even as I walked back to hostel, the charm of the city would not let me take my eyes off it. Suddenly I felt something was missing and checked my back pocket. I realized it was my wallet. My heart skipped a beat – it had my ATM card, my driving license, and a load of cash. When could someone steal it? I never felt it slipping out my pocket. The only thing I could do was to desperately call out to God, praying I had not lost everything.

“Anna…?” I heard a timid voice calling me, tugging at my shirt from behind. I turned back to see the same little girl in ragged clothes. She raised her delicate hands to me. They held my wallet. I couldn’t believe my luck. Ecstatic, I looked into those innocent eyes, overcome with gratitude. I thanked her, opened my wallet and gave her some money. She accepted it happily and walked back, all of it happening in a matter of seconds. Who was she? Was she an angel sent by God? Though she was in dire need of cash, she was kind enough to return the wallet. She was a gem in this world driven by its endless pursuit of wealth. I kept looking in her direction, long after she left. She had gone to one of the food stalls, to get some food with her newfound money. She then hurried to the other side of the road and what she did next touched me profoundly – she shared her food with her two younger brothers. The smiles on their faces had tears rolling down mine. Yes, she might have been an angel to me, but to those boys, she was way more than that.

I continued on my walk.