Yesterday, as I stood outside a medical shop, patiently waiting my turn in line to procure some necessary medication, a scene unfolded before me that would forever be etched in my memory.
An elderly gentleman, garbed in clothes that had seen better days, anxiously fidgeted with his wispy, white beard while awaiting his turn at the counter. The pharmacist, after perusing the prescription in the old man’s hand, fetched a rather sizable medical box and announced its cost: “350 rupees,” he declared with a dismissive tone.
The old man, ever so slowly and with a palpable sense of nervousness, removed from his pocket the entirety of his cash, which amounted to a mere 310 rupees.
“This is all I have,” he said with a tinge of desperation.
“I will pay the remaining amount soon. We are staying at the hospital.”
The pharmacist merely smirked, snatched the box from the counter, and returned it to its designated spot on the shelf.
The old man was taken aback, bewildered by the sudden turn of events. Perhaps he was wondering what to do next, or maybe he was fighting back tears that had begun to well up in his eyes.
It was then that a gentleman standing behind him stepped forward and said, “Take the remaining amount from my bill…give him that box.”
The pharmacist obliged, begrudgingly handing over the box and accepting the cash.
The old man, ever grateful, turned to the gentleman and said, “Son, how should I feed this powder to my baby? He is only two days old.”
The gentleman replied, “This is not for the baby. This is for his mother.”
The old man then handed the box back to the pharmacist and said, “Oh! Then take this…I’ll buy this later.”
The pharmacist, irked by the old man’s indecisiveness, returned the cash to him with a look of venomous anger in his eyes. The old man, with no choice left to him, returned the money to the kind-hearted gentleman and began to walk away.
I followed the old man, intrigued by his behavior, and asked him why he returned the box. With beads of sweat dripping down his face, he wiped his brow and said, “I thought it was for my little angel. Why give it to his mother? She is fine now. If we need to buy medicines for the baby, who will give us the money for that?”
I was speechless, lost in thought as a myriad of questions raced through my mind. Why do situations force us to be so calculative? How do our preferences change? How can the flow of love change direction so quickly? Does poverty force us to make such difficult decisions? All these queries left me feeling numb, awestruck by how small the old man’s needs were, and how calmly he had made his decision. He did not make a fuss or lose his temper with the pharmacist. Instead, he accepted the situation, decided on his preferences, and walked away with an air of composure.
I continued to contemplate these matters as I walked along the street, lost in thought. Suddenly, a rickshaw driver’s harsh admonishment snapped me back to reality, and I realized that the old man had vanished into the crowd. “Such is life,” I muttered, trying to shake off the somber mood that had engulfed me.
Copyrighted © 2016-17 Mahesh Mali | Awesomengers
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Awesomengers 
Leave a comment