It was 7:30 am at the Chennai Central Station and I was here to pick up a few guests for a big fat Indian wedding. I still have 30 Mins before the scheduled arrival and really wanted a drink of water. Contemplating if I should wait for later or have a swig right now, I loitered around the busily occupied station. I chose to pick up a bottle only to find that 1 Litre is all I can buy and nothing smaller. I picked it up anyway and gulped down half a bottle in one go knowing fully well that I might not be able to finish the whole thing. Something told me to leave the half-filled bottle at a closed food counter. I did and began to observe if someone will go for it.
In sometime, a man probably in his late thirties, business like in this attire picked up some food from the next counter and stood next to the bottle to have it. What I didnt immediately observe was there was an old man, thin and frail standing behind him trying to grab his attention. The old man could have been in this sixties, salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper, white shirt and dhoti and interestingly dark glasses, the one worn by blind people. He had a distinguished beard but a sunken frame which gave him the look an alms seeker that he was.
He stood next to the business man, at a distance which was not intrusive but at the same time close enough to grab attention. He closed in very very slowly till their eyes met and that was indication enough for the beggar to move for the kill. His frail frame and folded hands did the trick this time and the businessman shared his last idli with the beggar. The bottle of water continued to stay in its place and would have probably admired the way the beggar went about this business if the bottle had a mind of its own.
The bottle was soon to become the star of the story. The old man started chatting away with the businessman and the businessman nonchalantly nodded without really listening. The beggar quickly gobbled his idli, took the bottle and helped the businessman wash his hands with the water as if thanking him for the beautiful gesture of help. The businessman walked away.
The old man took a sip of water and looked around for his next customer. His black glasses tucked in his bag now. Another gentleman gloriously stood with his food at the counter and the old man started his routine again. This time the old man was in for a surprise. He didnt get any alms or food but this gentleman took his water bottle washed his hands and walked away as if thats what he was supposed to do. The old man was left perplexed, disappointed and with very little water in this bottle now. He knew the bottle could be put to good use to loosen the pockets of his unsuspecting customers but with little water left, he realized he had little chance, so he finished off the water and threw the bottle away in search of more customers.
For the next 10 Mins, he tried his routine for standing close to his potential customers and then slowly moving into their eye-view but had no luck whatsoever. Begging can be quite a difficult job and requires quite an art. It calls for patience, strategy, the appropriate attire and look and also market segmentation. In the case of this man, the food counters were his target. Any human being watching a beggar while gorging on delicious food would be guilt-ridden and would most likely give something away - either loose change or food. However, the beggar and myself soon realized that it usually is 1 out of every 10 people who actually act on their guilt.
The beggar moved from one food counter to another in search of his elusive customer and I followed suit, invisibly. The third food counter had loads of customers but I think that worked against him too. There were so many that he was lost in the crowd and no one noticed him. He tried catching hold of a few north-easterners. He had got their attention and they were contemplating. The mind had started playing its game on both of them, the silent negotiations had started, the deal was simmering and just when it could have been a make or break - the headphone blasted the arrival of my train and I rushed out left wondering if the beggar was successful or not.
For the beggar, ofcourse, it was just another day at work.
No comments:
Post a Comment