That summer morning I was half way through my breakfast when I heard some woman crying in the vicinity. The cries distracted all of us sitting around the table. I got up from the breakfast table and went to the balcony of the flat which was located on the first floor, to find out who was crying, where and why.
I saw a poor woman wailing outside her makeshift shack in a corner of the vacant plot of land adjoining ours. Sitting motionless on the ground nearby was her husband who held his head between his palms. He was quiet and engrossed in deep thought.
Their small child, who was scantily clad, also squatted near his parents to complete the picture of that poor family. The little one was playful all the time in sharp contrast to the mood of his parents. Occasionally, whenever his mother cried a bit loudly, the half naked baby boy would look at her and then resume playing with what looked like the piece of some discarded plastic toy.
Inquisitive as I was, I quickly finished my breakfast and went down stairs. I found that the small family lived in a tent-type shack that was made up of some old and worn out cloth pieces, old plastic sheets and the like. That was all the poor couple could manage to build a modest dwelling for their survival. It also had what may be described as an a apology for door which was basically intended to check an intruder like a dog but certainly not a human being.
Both parents were daily wagers who earned their livelihood working as labourers at construction sites. They had come to the big city from their village hoping to make a "decent earning and living".
Their earning in those days was hopelessly meagre. The twosome and the toddler appeared half-fed and malnourished. The couple ate twice; once early in the morning before leaving for work and the second time when they came back home from day's hard work. Each meal consisted of thick rotis (Indian bread) eaten with bare salt and chillies.
The family owned a dented utensil made of aluminum to cook food that served as a plate as well. As the woman disclosed during her sobs, she had a dream of eating from some metallic thaali (big sized plate) and drinking water from a metal tumbler. So, despite their pitiable plight, they saved money and bought a thaali made of brass and a tumbler to serve them all. It was a big moment in their life. They were happy about the new acquisitions.
Shocked
The man did not look up when I stood near him. Apparently, he was shocked. So, I asked the woman, "What happened? Why are you crying so much". Continuing her sobs, she replied, "Sir, we are a poor people. Last night, somebody committed a theft here ..."
"Oh", I sighed in disbelief, trying to figure out what the thief could have taken away from this shack. "It is surprising that they did not spare even you. What are the things that you lost?" I asked.
Sobbing, the poor woman replied, "He has taken away our brass thaali and the glass tumbler. These were our very precious possessions. With great difficulty, we had been able to buy them with our hard earned savings."
I was no less shocked by what was by our standard a petty theft. I stood speechless before the poor couple, pondering over the fact that the person who took away the two utensils must have been poorer.
Reluctantly, I asked them whether I could replenish their lost utensils. The man broke his silence to say, "No Sir, we don't need any. We would eat out of the old utensils".
There was a ring of self respect in his voice. I came back home. Next morning, I peeped out of my balcony to have another look at the poor couple. The shack was not there.
