30 Rupees

Arriving home at night, the last thing I expected after parking the car was turning around to find a short man asking me for thirty rupees.

He had a scruffy yet gentle face and spoke with his dignity intact.

Said he was no beggar but a day laborer working on the nearby road.

His eyes were bright and he didn’t reek of alcohol.

His one hand held a bag of sweets as the other pointed to where he had been waiting for his contractor to collect the day’s wages. But with no sign of him, he decided to take a chance on me.

“No I don’t drink” he assured me, “and your money will be returned first thing in the morning”.

I told him to wait as I went upstairs and returned with the change. All the while, not once did I feel I was being conned or lied to. His peaceful countenance had arrested and convinced me.

Later that night I lay in bed wondering – where did he come from? I couldn’t recollect seeing him walk up to us and yet he had appeared as though he had always been there.

What were the sweets for?

Was he about to celebrate something later that night?

Why didn’t the contractor show up?

Will thirty rupees be enough for his dinner?

The following morning I knew I wouldn’t see him again.

Not because he had lied to me, but because he wasn’t from here.