I was standing on State Transport bus stand. It was heavy rains last night and it stopped today morning. Evidently, there was heavy moisture in the atmosphere. Everyone seemed okay with it, but I can clearly see the shining sides of my nose! With humidity rising to 95 % it was irritatingly sweaty. I always wondered whenever I go to Indian sea level that why do all the local people have matte finish faces and people traveling to that part of the world end up having glossy faces. This humid air was making me clumsier after a tasty lunch of fish and also I had extra rice I thought as preparation of a long journey from Chiploon to Mumbai. . . just to get away from the unwanted appetite.
I was still fine about the overwhelming malwani masala and the excessive quantity of rice that I had. 'I can't just sleep now- I have to be alert' I quipped to myself as I was standing amidst unusually busy crowd. I said unusually because it was konkan and I never even dreamed so unusual that I will see people in konkan are working like mumbaikars. Somehow I felt my brain is fighting too hard against me to slow down the things and I figured out the reason -' Its four days continuous festival holiday!' that was the reason there were so many 'working' people around.
I saw a soft movement near my legs and in next moment it even touched my right knee. Subconsciously I thought its a dog, but then it turned out to be a not more than three years old & one and half feet tall baby girl beggar looking straight into my eyes from approximately four and half 5 feet below of me. Her expression and her overall size made me remember my niece - cutest thing on this planet. I went away from her and suggested from my eyes to go away. Most of the times I don't give such slumdog beggars money in order to not to inspire such people who make them beg. To my astonishment the kid read my eyes and responded quickly, she moved away from me, I expected some stubborn attitude. 'She must be experiencing such refusals quarter of billion times per day' I thought; and appreciated my own fiery eyes. I ignored her went to grab a bottle of cold water.
While standing in front of a small general store on the ST stand, my shoulders were tapped from behind. I looked back and it was saffron colour laden seventy plus years old priest. He was looking at me and signaling for little money. I once more did the same trick and looked angrily in his eyes. He immediately went away. That's going good I thought to myself. I didn't know I've become so good at the expressing through my eyes and moved to the same original place where I was standing earlier and started looking for the bus travelling to Mumbai and got myself into ever increasing rush.
After a while, I saw a young lady begging in the bus stand. She was walking like a zombie. Her bedraggled saree was not enough to cover her anorexic body, exposing her torn blouse and depressed stomach. Her expressions made her look like a woman full of agony. She was walking in constant motion and I knew there is going to be another 'denial-from-eyes' act for this third beggar within last 12 minutes. I was into some random thoughts and accidentally for a second we saw each other. I tried to avoid the eye-contact but I again looked at her as she changed her direction and started walking towards me with some motive in her head. I still managed to ignore her but soon she reached and asked in local language 'bhaoo, upaashi ahe, shambhar donshe rupaye de' (I'm starving brother, give me hundred - two hundred rupees). To my surprise as it was quite a bold and excessive and hence unexpected demand, I again conveyed my refusal against her demand through my eyes. It worked as she backed out a bit but I did not know that it would come back and hit me rock hard - she said - ' paise kaadh, nhaita me arda orda karal ki gelya warshi holila tu maazyashi kaay kaay aan kiti wela baljabree kelee te' (get me the money quickly otherwise I'll start shouting right now that how you raped me last year over and over on this same day of holi)' me gola karil lokasni aan lok chaplini haanteel tula. (I'll shout louder and make a mob who will eventually beat you by shoes). I did not say anything. I didn't believe I was afraid.
My heart sunk inside within me because of sudden anxiety and it stopped for a while, and I woke up! 'Wild dream!' . . . checked up clock . . . it was 3.50 a.m. I grunted and grubbed. . . sighed in order to gather my senses and tried inviting the sleep again.
I still wonder what I would have done in that situation. I still don't have the answer.
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