Knowing me

About Devang Desai

An accountant's journey of 40 years gathering non- financial insights about people , their relationships & their environment . Learning from the experiences of the many who have travelled before and trying to create enjoyable readings from words , ideas and self-realizations .

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Onlookers looked and unlooked at the shabby man, overweight with unkempt beard and uncombed hair, both white, dragging along his bicycle across the 10 lanes crossing circle. Everyone noticed him and he seemed to notice none. Who was this pajama-clad, uncouth-like, unbothered he ?

Notice him, recognise, feel and know him, the lady in the dark glasses and scarf-covered, wanted to cry out to the indifferent many who saw but did not see. She was always alongside, seeing and sensing him; her precious him.

At first they doubted what they were doing. This, this masquerade.

And they had everything. A lovely, purposeful daughter – billionaire, celebrity status, known to many as innovators, activists, and  do-gooders. They were known to all.

Every month they picked a place in their city, mostly. Today it was his turn to mingle and her turn to track. They wanted to be known as these people whom they portrayed – the ordinary unknown persons. But none would lift the mask.

Today it was his fate to be manhandled. The traffic cop yelled at him; most two-wheelers zipped past him with wisecracks; there was this “decent” lady in a car who abused angrily. This was the usual treatment, every time . And she remembered when she lived the day of a rag-picker; in the same block where a week before she addressed a charity function, donating millions to uplift that entire area .

This time the community stalwarts set the ugly dogs after her; the wayside vendor made lewd offerings. She wept for not being accepted and she remembered all had agreed at the function, the charity was for all – especially the street women.

This was their sorrow. No one wanted to know the true pain; the pain of the forgotten.

There was one place under the bridge, occupied by the family of four. They smiled at her and often welcomed her with tea or water or even hot bread which they were making for themselves. While she sat and spoke, the sharp woman would shyly say in her broken, untidy way, “You look so much like that lady who comes in a big car to give medicines and clothes. One day I will make you meet her.”


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6 Response Comments

  • Nidhi Jangid08/12/2018 at 10:23 AM

    Really a story that depicts the status-oriented world in a true manner! I am moved by the sense of gratitude and also thankless nature of people at the same time. The narration is quite sophisticated which succeds in giving you an emotional touch!! 👍

    • Devang Desai12/12/2018 at 10:11 PM

      Thank you
      reminded me of the story of how the king would meet his subjects in disguise

  • Khelan Shah09/12/2018 at 12:32 AM

    The author manages to paint quite a picture there. It is a pleasant story which conveys a message of empathy. You never understand what someone has to go through until you put yourself in their shoes, that is what the main characters are willing to do here.

    • Devang Desai12/12/2018 at 10:13 PM

      Thank you
      to live an authentic life 🙏

  • Rahil10/12/2018 at 11:00 PM

    Well, it’s a beautifully written story. The writer clearly explains the message he is trying to convey through this. The main characters are very well aware that to truly understand and help the poverty-stricken people, one must understand their struggles, which is only possible when they put themselves in those shoes.

    • Devang Desai12/12/2018 at 10:17 PM

      Thank you
      every morning while cycling , I would see the street dwellers of all ages ; a few would look me in the eye

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