As I stood on the platform of the New Delhi Railway station,waiting eagerly for my train to arrive, a beggar on the platform caught my attention… Umn, rather, pity… He seemed very old aged. Both of his legs were amputated, and so was one of his hands. A rough, wooden platform on wheels made his movement possible, which he managed to drag by the use of his one hand (that was intact). He paused at one person, then another, eagerly waiting for a good response, but no one bothered. They were too busy otherwise.
As he grabbed the foot of a man who was busy attending a call, and was taken unawares, his suitcase accidentally dropped on the back of the panhandler. His amputated hand had probably started to pain, which he held tightly with his intact hand. His pain was visible in his manners, for I realized that he was speech~impaired. The man scolded him hard and went away. After composing himself, the beggar again started with his job. When he came to me, I searched for some change in my handbag, but I found none. So I gave him a fifty~rupee note, it being the smallest I had.
Suddenly some incense smell caught my attention. I turned about to find that it was a boy, who probably seemed not more than 25 years of age. He was dressed like a saint. His hair were neatly combed and the forehead shone brightly with crimson powder. He held a utensil, along with incense sticks, and some photographs of holy gods. The utensil had some fifty rupee notes, while the others were of hundred, and not to mention the coins in change. He forwarded the utensil to me and told me that if I donated money, then I would attain salvation, be happy in my entire life and get whatever I wanted. I smiled at him, joined hands and bowed in front of the gods and gestured for him to leave.
As he went through and through the platform, eventually, his utensil got filled with so much money, that he had to extinguish the incense sticks to make some space… He put back the half~burnt incense in his pocket…