This first appeared on LinkedIn.
I was parked somewhere waiting for the family to grab a bite just off Main Street, Camp when a possibly-just-short-of-60, well-turned-out, masked, uniformed (in the khaki trousers and shirt, with the badge issued by RTO hanging from his left breast pocket) rickshaw driver driving a clean-looking, well-maintained rickshaw pulled up alongside. I looked up from my phone questioningly and he hesitated first, and then folded his hands as tears started rolling down his cheeks. He said he has made only ₹200 since morning and very small amounts for the past fortnight. There was nothing left over after paying the vehicle owner, petrol, and police and that there was nothing for his family to eat. No money for oil, fuel, vegetables, milk, or rice. All he has been feeding them has been given by his relatives and neighbours and now they too have run out. He said he has never begged in his life but when he saw me standing there, he didn’t know what overcame him.
Suddenly, he realised what he was doing, and hastily apologised and started his rickshaw and pulled out. I was shocked at first, and then gathered enough wits to chase after him, stop him, and hand him over ₹200, which was all the cash I had on me there. He refused and said he was sorry to have stopped and recounted the tale to me. He said he went mad for an instant, thinking of his kids’ faces. He tried touching my feet, but I asked him to go, ran back to my car, got in, turned the ignition, and drive off to avoid any more awkwardness.
Before going, I told him not to tell his children where he got the money from. I wanted them to believe that their Baba is Superman. I don’t want to ever break any child’s illusion that their father can do anything.
But as I sat in the car, I broke down.
I have never felt so helpless, enraged, and ashamed all at once ever. Where are we going? What can we do? What did we do to deserve this? How many more of these are there? Why is there so much pain? What’s the kids’ fault? Or their father’s?
Later thoughts: His kids are obviously missing out on school, more so that it is online now. How will they grow up and be productive members of society or of the human race? How will they compete with the privileged kids like mine? How will they react to others claiming to have gotten ahead on ‘merit’ as they languish in poverty? How many generations will it take to once again lift their families out of penury? I read somewhere (Freakonomics?) that the poor are but one emergency, one calamity, one illness, one accident, one single wrong ‘un away from starvation, that the privileged have social, financial, emotional, political, racial, and caste cushions to break their fall and give them a soft landing, which the vast majority in India lack, that it takes at least one and a half generations to come out of extreme poverty and just one small event to push everything and everyone back into it. I thought that the author was exaggerating. But lately, after demonetisation, the tanking economy and lack of jobs due to extreme corruption at the top, and finally, the pandemic, I realise why the adjective to describe such poverty is ‘crippling’.
P.P.S: Could I have done better? Could I have taken him to an ATM and given him more? Could I have taken his phone number and sent him more money? Could I have bought him groceries? I do not know. I am a pretty tough guy. But this left me shaken.
