Mumbai - An Addiction
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Beggar Outdone
Begging is as profitable an industry as any in Mumbai. And over the period of time it has evolved to match the ever changing sensibilities of the ones they depend on. That is Us. Of course they have also scaled up to match the inflation and the increased salaries that the spoilt and pampered youth of today jingle in their pockets. But even the beggars can't think it all... and end up running into a client who is so overly helpful... that they just can not accept his offerings.
Outside Andheri station, at the signal, an established modus operandi of a beggar, or a group of them, is to claim money from the people in autos, cars and bikes, who are already quite hassled about the traffic to have the patience to deal with trouser hemlines tugging beggars. The pretext is what makes the Andheri signal beggars stand apart. They claim money saying that there is a funeral procession for which they need money. Now death, even of absolute strangers, does move most of us. And people do buy in to this death scam and dole out money, a lot more generously than they would have otherwise.
But this time, right next to my own auto, was a guy who either had a heart of tin, or a sense of humour of the devil himself. This beggar comes up to him and says... "Bhai... Janaza hai. Madat karo. Paisa do (There's a funeral. Please help by giving some money)" The irate guy just mumbled something under his breath in his attempt to shoo the beggar away. But beggars are more persistent than that sales guy who knocks on your door to sell the latest whitening detergent. "Janaze ke liye mana nahin kartein (You shouldn't refuse to help for a funeral)" The beggar scolded. Wrong Move!
The guy, as if extremely moved, and enlightened by the beggar’s wise words, grabbed him and pulled him in the auto. "Sahi Kaha. Tu mujhe janaze mein lekar chal. Main puri madat karoonga. Saare kharche doonga. Tu mereko leke chal. (You are right. Take me to the funeral. I will help with everything and pay all expenses. Just take me there)"
Not used to such vehement sympathies, the beggar tried pulling away. The guy held on with an iron grip, now pleading to let him help. The Beggar wanted none of it. It was a rare scene.
It concluded by the signal becoming green, and the beggar scampering away to safety. And me and my autowala guffawing away at the guy's ready wit.
Outside Andheri station, at the signal, an established modus operandi of a beggar, or a group of them, is to claim money from the people in autos, cars and bikes, who are already quite hassled about the traffic to have the patience to deal with trouser hemlines tugging beggars. The pretext is what makes the Andheri signal beggars stand apart. They claim money saying that there is a funeral procession for which they need money. Now death, even of absolute strangers, does move most of us. And people do buy in to this death scam and dole out money, a lot more generously than they would have otherwise.
But this time, right next to my own auto, was a guy who either had a heart of tin, or a sense of humour of the devil himself. This beggar comes up to him and says... "Bhai... Janaza hai. Madat karo. Paisa do (There's a funeral. Please help by giving some money)" The irate guy just mumbled something under his breath in his attempt to shoo the beggar away. But beggars are more persistent than that sales guy who knocks on your door to sell the latest whitening detergent. "Janaze ke liye mana nahin kartein (You shouldn't refuse to help for a funeral)" The beggar scolded. Wrong Move!
The guy, as if extremely moved, and enlightened by the beggar’s wise words, grabbed him and pulled him in the auto. "Sahi Kaha. Tu mujhe janaze mein lekar chal. Main puri madat karoonga. Saare kharche doonga. Tu mereko leke chal. (You are right. Take me to the funeral. I will help with everything and pay all expenses. Just take me there)"
Not used to such vehement sympathies, the beggar tried pulling away. The guy held on with an iron grip, now pleading to let him help. The Beggar wanted none of it. It was a rare scene.
It concluded by the signal becoming green, and the beggar scampering away to safety. And me and my autowala guffawing away at the guy's ready wit.
posted by Himanshu at 2:54 AM
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