The Blind man

Well, this is not a story with some moral at the end...its a true collection of incidents..

Close to where I stay in Delhi, there stays a blind man.Lets call him H. Now you'll ask "How did I happen to meet this man in the crowds of thousand that seem to roam about Delhi Roads...". Well one day I had gone to Hauz Khas market walking and while coming back, we encountered this man who was walking after probing around the road with his stick.When he felt that there were some people who were close by, he requested us to help him cross the road.My dad helped him and he went on his way and we on ours...That was how I met him the first time.And I didn't pay much attention to the blind man trying to find his way.

A few days later Dad had to go out of town, so I had to take a bus to reach the place where I used to catch the company bus. So I reached the stop. And H was standing standing there, waiting for his bus. Now I thought to myself that how would this guy know when it's the bus he has to board, because it 7:15 AM in the morning and there weren't very many people on the stop. Then when my bus came and I was going to board the bus, the conductor of the bus got down, said a loud Hello to H, asked him how he was still at he stop and then helped him board the bus. I was really touched, but that was not all. We went a little and was waiting at a red light when a DTC drew up alongside and the driver called out loudly to H, and came out of the bus and helped him onto his bus.In this time the red light had turned to green but neither our Blueline driver and neither the DTC driver was bothered. They calmly waited for H to change buses and only after he was seated did the buses move. Now thats what I call the other side of the drivers of the "Killer" Blueline bus.

On another day I took a bus home from somewhere, and while I was walking fromthe bus stop to the crossing( they are some distance apart and people prefer getting down at the crossing so that they have to walk less). Unfortunately for me, the light was green and the bus didn't stop at the crossing. Anyways while I was on the other side of the road, I saw H trying to find his bearings because his bus had left him at the crossing and he was feeling helpless. And before I could cross the road to help him, I saw a florist who sits near the crossing run over to him, and help him. Afterwards H thanked the man and walked off home and the florist then returned to his unattended shop.


All these incidents got me thinking how diffcult, even depressing it must be for H to survive in a place like Delhi. Getting to the bus stop in the morning might be easy for him if he had the number of steps counted etc, but he must be needing help crossing the road, to board the (correct) bus, and again to get anywhere if the bus left him at the crossing instead of the bus stop, and no doubt some people would feel burdened helping him, but there are countless other selfless people who help him whenever they can.

I can't even explain how guilty it feels to be feeling bad for things like not getting that 8 LPA job or doing well in MBA exams or CGPA when for that man, getting to the bus stop everyday is a challenge, when his whole existance is so tough.
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And to think I used to feel that getting up at 6:30 AM is tough.