Thursday, July 5

The Hand that Receives.

I stare at the grains of rice on my plate as the crowd bustles around me, some casting looks of contempt in my direction. Yet, I do not feel their hateful gaze in fact… quite the contrary. There’s a balloon of joy growing inside of me. Yes, joy for the blessing I have received.

My day started with a sharp pain which’s source was my foot. Waking up with a jolt I examined both my legs. And there it stood, the ‘Hound of Hades’ in all its glory. Cursing under my breath, I hurled the closest thing I found; a black stone. I hurled it at the mongrel which ran howling in pain. I glared after it as I nursed my sore foot as the wound throbbed continuously.

The sunlight filled the alley and how it seemed to burn me. I scrambled to my feet and limped towards the street corner. In my hand I carried the source of my income; a simple metal dish that was my sole possession. What more could I have? What more could the scum of the city be able to own?

The streets and alleys are my home and the cardboard boxes are my beds. Is this the best I can do? Perhaps if I had the opportunities, the privileges the young children I see everyday have, I would be someone. It could have been me casting looks of disgust at the homeless at the street corners; it could have been me driving that Mercedes-Benz and living in a bungalow. But that dream is not possible for one like me. I have lived on the streets since I can remember. In all my life, I have not known joy. The limited vocabulary which I have, I have learnt from others like me. I sleep wherever I can as choices are limited. As the saying goes, ‘Beggars (oh the pun!) can’t be choosers’.

I find my spot near the food court beside the market. My mouth opens only to say, “Have pity on me,” to anyone who walks by. I must truly be a sight to behold with my uncovered torso and torn pants. I make friends with the fleas in my hair and beard. My cries do get a few coin “spare change” as it is called from a few good hearted people. Perhaps I could get enough for a small piece of stale bread. Perhaps, even two.

And then, I see him; the competition. His sallow face and haunted eyes give him a more pitiful appearance compared to me. I glare at him as he sits opposite me. Sure enough, he gets more than I have in barely a few minutes. You see, even in my world, the law of the jungle still applies.

The sun is now above me head signalling that noon has arrived. With the few coins I have in my dish, I hobble into the food court and manage to weasel out a piece of bread from a stall. The man behind the counter looks revolted at the sight of my and chases me off quickly once I get my “meal”. I find myself a table and start to eat, eyeing the crowd around me. They were not even finishing their food. Ungrateful wretches!! As I savour the last bits of my slice of bread, I decided to hunt for some more. There were many tables of people whom I know wouldn’t finish their food. The left-over would do well to fill my burning stomach.

Soon I spot a group of boys sitting not far from me, smiling as they ate their meal. I approach them and ask only to have what they would leave on their plates. One boy looked at me and with what I could have sworn was pity. He turned to his two companions and asked for spare change. The two complied, though with rather confused faces. The first boy then took the coins and asked me to sit down as he too took out his wallet and headed for a nearby stall.

I was puzzled. What strange actions! I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Not long after he returned with a plate of chicken rice. I gawked at it feeling my mouth water. He set it down in front of me and told me to eat. “This is for you Uncle. I’m sorry but I don’t have more. I hope it helps.” He said handing me a RM5 note. I stared at it as he placed it on the table. Was I dreaming? This was too good to be true!!

I sit here at the same table, RM5 in hand and a clean plate before me. The three boys have long gone but I am forever struck by their compassion. I know that I will go back to the streets tonight and sleep on a cold floor, but inside I am warm with happiness. Lady luck must be smiling at me today and I am grateful to her and the three boys. Oh, if the world was filled with people like them, how happy a place it would be.

~Grace Vaitilingam

~3 Amanah