Privilege

Under the yellow shade of the street lamp in the pitch-black alley, I stood, sipping a cup of tea. The cold winds bellowed; it was mid December. All that kept me warm was that hot cup and the surrounding smoke, I never liked the smell of those little paper devils, but they kept the heat and it had been a rather taxing day. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to going home, not anytime soon at least; the smell was strong and I was in no mood to have my parents find out tonight. Dinner would have to be on the streets tonight, I was running low on cash.

 I threw the butt on the ground and rubbed it with my feet, I watched as the burnt leaves splay on the ground under the yellow shade. Fuck that, time to get myself some food. The heat was wearing off, it started to feel chilly again, I took to walking, I had to find myself a cheap place to get rid of the hunger pangs that were irritating me more than I needed to be at that moment.

The phone buzzed, mum was calling, I was in no mood to talk to anybody, let alone mum. I cut the call and switched the phone off.

I frantically scoured the streets; finally, I had found a little shack. I was hungry and they had food, fuck quality, this would have to do for tonight. The visual anger on my face had likely dimmed- because right then, I was approached by a little kid. One of those street kids, ragged clothes, the usual.

“Bhaia, akta balloon kinben?”

“Ami balloon diye ki korbo? Tor monehoye ami
 balloon diye kheli?!”

“Bhaia akta nen na.” he resonated back, this time the plea was stronger. Some part of me felt bad I suppose, perhaps I had a soft corner in me, one that I seldom visited.

“Tor khida lagse?”

“Ho bhaia, sharadin kichu khainai.”

“Accha, ami balloon kinbona. Amar shathe aidike aye.”

“Mama, ak plate tikka ar  4 ta luchi den”

“Ki khaite chas? Balloon kinbona, kintu tokeh khawabo, tor golar kontho shune maya lagse.”
The asshole inside of me felt so proud at that moment, I was doing a great deed, spending my money on this kid. What a fucking saint I must be.

“Na bhaia, kisu khabona.”
“tor na khida lagse?! Faizlami paisos? Taka’r jonne manush re kos khida lagse, shuwor er baccha!”
His face had turned blue, his voice a little hushed, he said…

“Bhaia, kisu mone koiren na. amare taka ta diya den. Ami taka ta amma ke dibo. Amar choto bon ta amar joinne boishe ase. Kisu khayenai oe.”

I fell cold. I fell cold to the heart of this little kid, I felt like I was doing this kid a great favour, a favour that no one else was willing to do him. I had this sense of moral gratification going on within me, but in that minuscule moment all of it was gone. I saw him as a beggar who had come to me because his false gods had abandoned him, the power that I possessed towered over him. But, was I really better than him?  I felt ashamed. My mouth went a little dry, my voice became hoarse. I assumed a different tone.

“Tor bashae ke ke thake?”
“amar amma, ami ar amar bon.”
“tor baap koi? Tor maa kaj kore?”
“na bhaia, amar maa onek oshusto, amar baap tai amgore chaire choila gese. Rojgaar shob ami kori.”
For the first time ever, I looked at another human being and saw pain in their eyes; pain, despite of which they still continued fighting. I was as non chalant and impervious to the world around me as one can get, I was shrouded by a fortress of money and privilege, the fortitude of which was finally questioned today.

The food lay on the table, but by god, I wouldn’t be able to swallow a single morsel that night. My neck constricted. I was tongue tied. I just sat there, in awe, contemplating. Amidst all the chaos, silence; silence is all that resonated.

I shared the plate with him. That’s the least I could do. But, only now, I wasn’t doing it because I felt superior to him. I had everything, everything one could ask for. But this little soul sitting in front of me, he had nothing, yet he had more than me because I fell short to him where it really mattered, I fell short in terms humanity.

On my way out, I bought food for his mum and sister. I used whatever little money I had with me. For the first time in my life, the arrogance that I had within me, slowly seeped away. I didn’t feel happy that I bought his family food, I didn’t feel any sense of gratification, all I felt was guilt. I felt horrendous, I felt as if all that money which I flaunt around, money which I didn’t even fucking earn, amounted to nothing. I couldn’t do more and that bit me on the inside.

I walked home that night, perhaps a little different than I had walked out in the morning. Home felt a little warmer, it felt like some place I want to be at. Mum’s worried face didn’t annoy me this time around. I relished dad’s lecture. I checked my privileges, and all this time I had neglected the biggest privilege of them all, a happy family.