Like a lot of Salt Lake residents, I too decided to change my office route. EM Byepass was out, the Chaulpotti Road-Moulali-Creek Row-GC Avenue route was in. Second day into the route, and I saw him for the first time.
"He" stands at Moulali Junction, just where Dr LM Bhattacharya road ends and you turn off into Creek Row. An old man with a stubble beard, dressed in a t-shirt and lungi, standing by the roadside begging for alms. He waits for the traffic signal to turn red, then walks from window to window begging. Seems like just another beggar, till you look at his eyes and notice he is COMPLETELY blind. The light in his eyes has gone out ages ago, replaced by grey, lifeless marbles.
The first time it intrigued me. If the man was blind, how did he know when the cars came to a standstill and it was time to go and do his thing? Other blind beggars usually have a helper to guide them, or they're not really blind. If you're observant, or if you've seen Madhur Bhandarkar's traffic signal, you can easily make out the not blind :). But this man was alone, and the best of my observation confirmed he was really blind as a bat.
Then I noticed his modus operandi. This man (lets call him Ahmed for want of a name) stood next to the road divider with a stick in his hand. The right hand held the stick, and the other end of the stick touched the divider railing. He stood and stood as car's whizzed by. Some inert sense in Ahmed (probably vibration sensing through his feet) told him when cars had stopped at the signal. When they stopped, he would slowly, carefully reach out his left hand and try to touch the door of the car nearest. Having set his perimeters (the divider to the right and car door to the left) he would approach the window and start begging. 2 mins at a window, and Ahmed would move towards the next car in line - all the time the stick in the right hand touching the divider railing and telling him he was within safe retractable distance.
This would continue until the signal turned green and the cars started rolling. The moment Ahmed's left hand sensed moving metal, he would retract to the divider grill - and the motion would continue all day.
It intrigued me. If ONE of his judgements was mistimed, Ahmed would be in mortal danger of being injured by parts (or the whole) of a moving car. Yet his begging continued day in and day out.
Most of the summer I saw him in a tattered T-shirt. In July I saw him decked in a brand new white T-shirt and cap, carrying the logo of a prominent NGO. I personally believe these NGOs are dictated by jackasses who think that the best way to do upliftment of the poor is to give them brand new clothes which display their own logos to the best effect. Within a week the new clothes were gone - sold or stolen I don't know - and the tattered t-shirt was back. As winter approached I saw someone had been kind enough to gift him an old sweatshirt - thankfully without logos.
Ahmed was the only beggar in Kolkata I gave a fiver (or anything) to the first time, and continue to give a fiver or tenner whenever I'm in the rightmost lane and he comes to my window. Twice he misjudged my window and moved ahead, when I yelled "Idhar aaiye" and he came back to receive his daily grant. He knows my voice now, which became apparent when I called him one day and tried to make small chat. I asked him how long he has been blind, to which he said something like "Aap to achhe admi hain saab, humko hamesha dekhte hain aur kuch dete hain. Andhe ke lie saal/din barabar hota hai saab, hum to idhar hi hain kab se". He then burst into a smile, the typical large hearted, toothy, innocent smile I've seen many blind people breaking into.
Another day I saw Ahmed being irritated by 2 street urchins who also operate at that same traffic signal. The kids were taunting him, calling him "andha" and pulling at his sweatshirt. He was laughing.
I've reached a point now where I expect Ahmed to come to my window everytime at that signal, and rather enjoy giving him a fiver or tenner when he does. Quite surprising since I'm generally a heartless fellow and hate beggars. The reason, when I dig deep, seems to be simple. In him, I see a reflection of our human lives.
Think about it. The way Ahmed operates in traffic is the same way we lead our lives. Our family - our parents, our wives, our children - are our road dividers. We have a stick in one hand, with which we are constantly ensuring contact with our families. The other hand reaches out to touch everything we do with out lives - our careers, our education, the choices we make. We live life by moving from window to window, picking up experiences, picking up money, picking up the results of the choices we have made. All the time the other hand touching the railing assures us we have some place to go back to.
When one of the results of our choices does not turn out the way we expected - when the cars of life start moving too fast for our comfort, we sense, and we retract back to our families who give us support and shelter. We recover. Then we sense that the time is ripe again - the cars have stopped at the signal - and we're back moving from window to window asking for all that we ask from life.
In Ahmed, I see one more thing. I see the courage to face life. The man has lost his vision a long time back, is probably too old and haggard to be employed anywhere. He probably has no one in the world to assist him in begging, so the only way he can scrape out a livelihood is to play "Sense and touch' games with tonnes of moving machinery. Yet he laughs. When a sympathetic passerby asks him what brought on his current plight, he laughs. When younger fitter humans mock his disability, he laughs. He laughs, and shows people like me how pathetic we really are - scared stiff at the prospect of losing the sand castles we've built out of our educated, protected lives.
So when my boss ensures I've had a miserable day, or when things don't go as planned, I think of Ahmed now. I reach out to my family, try to share the happenings of the day - or simply a laugh - and get on with life.
Its true that God shows you the path in remarkable ways. Maybe Ahmed is one of them. The next time you're at Moulali signal, do call the old man to your window and give him whatever you can. You'll feel happy.
