My last 50 cents

As I was munching my lunch, this haunting image popped up out of the blue. It had been popping up now and then for the last 21 years.

21 years ago, I lost my job. During that time it was a bad year. Business was slow and the economy was down. One of my contractors gave me a job. It was not a high paying job, enough to tide over and enough to pay the rent and put food on the table. So money was tight and every cents count.

One morning, I left for work and had only a cup of coffee for breakfast. In the latter part of the morning I drove to Shah Alam to visit some customers and supervised some projects. After a few drop in here and there, it was almost 1 pm.

Since I was in Shah Alam, I decided to drop in to see a lawyer at Shah Alam Complex, who was handling some legal matters on behalf of us. By the time, I finished with him it was almost 2 pm. I was famished. I needed something to eat.

I took out my wallet and found I have only 50 cents in it. What can I get for 50 cents? There was nothing there I could get to eat for 50 cents. Hungry and depressed, I walked to the car park. As I passed this poorly lighted corridor, I saw this Indian man in the corner begging. He look at me with the saddest eyes I ever seen, pleading, please help me. I wanted to help him but I have only 50 cents. I was hungry. I told myself if I got to a roadside shop I might get a small piece of curry puff, a cake or a roti chanai. That would satisfy my hunger.

One part of me said “It is only 50 cents, give it to him.”

The other part said “Oi, you are not a rich person; you need to feed your hunger.”

I guess hunger won.

As I was driving back, my conscience pricked me. It told me “It is only 50 cents and it meant much to that poor Indian man more than you. You will only be hungry for a while. Once you are back to the office, you could have a cup of coffee or get your boss to buy you something to eat. But this Indian man could be hungry for days. His children, if he had any will be hungry, too. Look at his pleading eyes, is it so hard to be kind?”

My heart was in turmoiled. After I reach the office, I was in no mood to eat and even at dinner time I was sad. I could have helped this man but I did not. What if this man was me?

Till today, the image of this Indian man with the saddest pleading eyes will now and then popped up. It is a reminder, a reminder to help someone in need, a reminder no sacrifice is to small, and a reminder not to judge and a reminder to be thankful always.

Was he an angel testing me and if he is, I have failed miserably!