The Poor Player.

   It was mid-summer when I was returning home from my job interview. Kolkata, home. I had missed the morning train, so I had to take an afternoon train. It was hot. Everybody on the platform was perspiring. Luckily, I got the window seat. At that time I was blind. I had a couple of contact lenses earlier, but they weren't for me. So I had decided to get a pair of new glasses once I return home. Not to mention, but I had a pair buried under my stuff in my handbag. But those glasses didn't work wonders. I did not have the perfect vision with those but it was blurry. And without the glasses, I couldn't make out anything.

   While I was sitting by the window, Dada shouted from outside,' Arjun, traveling without eyes is already hard. don't make it harder. Once you reach Kolkata, the hospital will manage. Come on, wear those pair of glasses that you have.' I did not mind him. The glasses are buried under all my things. It's not safe to unpack stuff while traveling, right?' And then a smirk lit up my face. Deep down he too knew that that was purposeful of me! I could not see what Dada looked like when he was annoyed, but I'm sure he let out a sigh. 

   Soon, the train whistled. I could understand that Dada had held on to the window railing tightly. When the train started moving, I could understand that Dada had clung to the window and was walking fast with the train, advising me on what to do and what not. And then suddenly, he left. He screamed goodbye and though I could not see him, I knew he waved.

   There was nobody beside me. But there was somebody in front. And I could guess he was a man. His knees eventually hit mine, when the train triggered. 

   Not before long, we heard distant music of a flute. It was coming from the other compartment. We knew it was a beggar. The beggar who only visited the trains. Playing music and asking for help. People took it as pleasure, he took it as a practice of imploring the passengers to grant money, with little or no expectation of reciprocation.

   Then I could hear the musical job clearly. The melody was unknown to everybody but yet they enjoyed it. But no one cared if he himself enjoyed it or not. Nobody asked. He stopped and I could understand he was asking. Begging with open hands and hopeful eyes. I heard the sound of coins and knew the person in front of me was being generous. I took my hand and found out a five paise coin from my front pocket and donated him. I had held on to the coins and then found his palm lying underneath my hand. I let go of the money but never knew how much the person in front of me donated. It is our nature to notice the number of property others have and/or the amount they give away when it is optional in a good or bad way. 

   Soon after the flute beggar left with his melody, the person spoke. 'What bad luck'. Now I was sure he was a man and that he was talking to me. 'What bad luck?' I said, being uncertain, 'Didn't you see the way he begged? He played, he stopped and then imitated that he wanted money. Poor man. He could neither speak nor could he listen.' I was staggered. If only I could see that I would have been much more generous.

   Then silence prevailed. Not one soul spoke. After processing the fact in my mind, I dug my hand in the bag for the pair of glasses. I found it and wore it. The person in front of me was gone. Nobody was there in my compartment. I was all alone. And then I heard it again. The music. I looked out and could see a faint figure of the flute beggar. I shouted. So hard that at last, my voice cracked. I shouted to him to come and get the money. I could understand that he was in much much more pain than what I was in. 

   But he didn't turn. He went on playing his melody. Far and then he reached out of my sight. But his music stayed. I knew that he could play so that others could listen but just not him. Then the music faded into thin air and again, I was alone in the compartment with my glasses on. And the disabled flute beggar with his flute. No words but just his breath amazed the world.