What Goes On In His Mind

It’s now part of my normal routine that after my coaching class ends at 8:30 in the night, I walk back home instead of taking the bus or an auto-rickshaw. Walking simply allows me to see the faces of so many people, and get a glimpse of a part of their daily lives. But yesterday, one person caught my thoughts. It was in the Andheri Station Walkway that I saw this man. I don’t know his name, nor do I know where he comes from or what he does. I saw him sitting on the steps, with an old, worn out backpack behind him. His clothes were filled with brown dirt, hair unkempt, face tired. I knew at that moment itself that he was homeless. Homeless people aren’t a rarity, not in Mumbai, but what was it that made this man stay in my thoughts? It was his eyes. Usually, you’d see homeless people looking up to passers by, hoping for some act of good will, so that they may fill their stomachs. But this man just looked ahead, with a dreamy look in his eyes, as if he were in deep contemplation. I could see some amount of regret on his face. Maybe he harboured a lot of regret, I’m not good at reading people. Not once did he look up to the hundreds of commuters. Not once did he move. He just sat there. I walked on, leaving him behind physically, but not mentally. I wondered, “What goes on in his mind”? Perhaps he might’ve been regretting some past deed that led him to the steps of the station. Maybe he was dreaming of a better tomorrow. Maybe he was dreaming of nothing at all. But those explanations weren’t satisfactory, those explanations could not possibly give that man his expression of regret. No, there must’ve been something else. I can never tell what exactly, but I do have a thought about it. What if that man had been a very good human being? What if he always gave to the needy, always loved others, always smiled and tried to make others smile? What if all he had in his heart was goodness and love? Yet, what if fate dealt him the hard hand and put him on those platform steps? Would he be wondering why, despite being good to others, did God allow this to happen? Would he be actually regretting being a good human being and instead would’ve preferred to look after his own back? He must’ve been wondering how twisted this world had become, where the good are ignored. Like Shakespeare said, “The good that men do is oft ‘terred with their bones, but the evil that men do lives on’. He must’ve been wondering why, before his own death, his good deeds were buried away. He must’ve been wondering what sins he’d done in the past that he’s perhaps paying the price for now. But more than anything, why, despite being good to others, is nobody good to him. It is scary. They say “What goes around comes around”. Maybe for the sinners, what goes around comes around, but what about the good people? Why is it that they face the blunt end of life? I write all these big thoughts, but in the end, even I’m just a big mouth with weak hands. I won’t be able to do anything to help that man, or change the world. But one thing is certain, his regret will always be imprinted onto my mind, and so will the great truth that came with it-it doesn’t pay to be good. It may make you feel good about yourself, but when it comes to the rest of the world, you’ll find that it doesn’t give a damn.

I saw him today too, he was there again, in the same spot, with the same expression, same clothes, same bag, and the same dreamy look in his eyes, as if he were frozen in time, a tragically beautiful portrait painted so that the onlookers could perhaps feel the apathy. But that portrait will never move unless it’s destroyed. That man will stay there forever, and I’ll see him every time I walk back home, and I bet I’ll have the same thoughts going in my head: “What goes on in his mind”…