Summer has gradually set in. The day is nearly unbearable, but the strong cold wind from the snow-clad Himalayas still manages to keep the evenings cool.
After a grueling day at the office, crunching numbers and making strategies to con my unwilling brothers, I was eagerly awaiting for a pleasant evening with a beautiful damsel who has agreed for an evening outing. She also, like me, is a yuppie looking for an intellectual companionship. The fact that we belong to opposite sex adds spice to the intellectual deliberations for the evening (after all, the spice is what makes the food tasty).
The dress code for the new breed is quite different from the conventional romantic couple out for a date. Levi jeans (torn), T-shirt and leather chappals with carefully tousled casual looking hairstyle. Natural setting is the ‘in thing’ these days. Unable to go far away from the city, we decided to compromise for the mundane Nehru Park, which I must say is a poor substitute.
After a stroll along the length and breadth of the park, we finally found a place without much intrusion into our privacy. The small talk ranges from trends in modern Indian cinema to Advaita to management theory (you see we are an intellectual duo).
And then he comes.
The pyjama is torn, stitched all around. Haven’t had a bath for days. A pleading look in his eyes, he is trying to earn his livelihood. He sees both of us sitting in a cozy chair, deeply involved in talking.
But he is quite an intelligent fellow. He approaches me straight. Tells me that he hasn’t had anything to eat the whole day. He is trying to strum the soft cords of my hearts at its social consciousness. I just can’t help showing how magnanimous a gentleman I am. Casually I handed over a one rupee note to him, hoping that he will fall at my legs with gratitude.
“What Sir, a good dinner at the dhaba would cost me five rupees, the cigarette you are smoking costs three rupees, are you not giving me the cost of even one cigarette. You privileged one, is this your great generosity”………….
He seems to be going into a lecture on the increase in cost of living and the exploitation of the poor by the ills like me.
The lady with me is having a hearty laugh at me squirming at his harangue. I was desperately trying to find a way to save my face.
Who told you, beggars cannot be choosers!!
Very funny. I think the category of fiction is not appropriate. If we really look around us, we can see numerous examples of where people who are in the position of begging (depending upon others) are not choosers. They rely upon others but they still demand (unfairly of course).
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