Middle----The Pleasure of Giving

(published in The Tribune on May 17, 2011)
by Jupinderjit Singh

RICH hearts do not need money. For, even the poorest, who beg or pull rickshaws to arrange for two square meals, take joy in giving.

I hate begging. For the better part of my life, I was one of those people who just told beggars to “go, find some work.” But I could never refuse one alms seeker.

This boy was about 10, often spotted at Bharat Nagar Chowk in Ludhiana. He was a little fairer than others and always had a mischievous smile on his face, with overgrown hair falling on his eyes. I always gave him some money but with the customary advice.

“Not a single rupee today,” I told him one late evening. My voice was dying down in the sound of growling tummies of me and my wife, both returning home after a hard day’s work. “We forgot the money at home and I am so hungry,” added my wife pitifully.

Before I could notice, the boy disappeared as we waited at the busy chowk, only to reappear on the other side of the car, carrying four bananas in his hands, which he offered to my wife. The spark in his eyes said all about the pleasure he had to be able to help. “Give me money tomorrow,” he said.

We could not deprive him of the pleasure he was feeling at that time by saying no to him. It is immaterial how we thanked him later. The look of joy he had when we took the fruit is permanently etched in my mind.

A rickshaw puller touched a close NRI friend’s heart similarly. As a child, she protested with elder women bargaining with boney rickshawallahs. On her recent visit, she hired a rickshaw, offered double the price for a said distance on the condition that she would stop for shopping here and there.

The puller was a young Punjabi, whose family owned a small piece of land, which did not provide much. On the way he narrated to her that he was forced to double up as a farm labourer and a rickshaw puller to attend to an ailing wife and the education of his children. She gave him Rs 100. “Didi, you are the kindest person I have ever met,” he could only say.

“You have been looted,” was what her elderly women relatives told her.

A few weeks later, the youth reached her house again. Eyebrows were raised as all thought he had came to seek more money.

“Didi, today is Raksha Bandhan. I brought a rakhi for you,” he said showing a colorful string. As she tied him the rakhi, he slipped a Rs 100 note and Rs 50 each for the two kids. “My wife is well. We both work now and had a good crop also. Brothers don’t take from sisters,” he said.

The woman could not refuse. She looked in triumph at other women showing them the sight of humanity in front of them.

(source : http://www.tribuneindia.com/2011/20110517/edit.htm#5)