Monday, 6 August 2012

The coin- A short story

She stepped out. Holding the five rupee coin in her hand, she was determined to end the nagging humanity inside of her and donate five precious rupees to charity. She had taken the coin out purposefully. Hiding her face with her dupatta, she hurried on and streams of thoughts ran through her mind; she thought about all the times she passed this very bridge, and of all the beggars that caught her eye.  She thought of their pitiful expressions, and the way she turned her head away when she felt guilty. What could she do? She worked so hard for money; she had so many stomachs to fill. Today was different, having contemplated sufficiently, she decided it was okay not to buy her medicine for the day, which she managed to obtain, one everyday. Instead, she wanted to help the lives behind those accusing, hurt eyes. Walking past the familiar bridge, she saw the bearded man, who sat down at the very corner. Wait. He’s smoking cigarettes, how could she give him the well-earned money? If he can afford to buy cigarettes, he does not need it. She walked straight past him to the woman, holding the baby in her arms, who stood at the same spot everyday. The woman doesn’t seem to be unhealthy at all, she thought. In fact, she had fat on her arms that put my skinny ones to shame. No. She doesn’t deserve it either. Looking at the small traffic-boy, she felt a tinge of guilt. He’s so young. If I give him the money, he will get used to it. I will be responsible for spoiling him. Absolutely not; it is better to pass him by than letting him have the money. Beggar by beggar, her mind came up with excuses and reasons. At last, the bridge ended. She had reached where she had wanted to. Please forgive me God, she whispered. Her hand slipped into her purse, and when it came out, the five rupee coin had disappeared.