The below article was written two years ago, but somehow never got published.
One day while
shopping for some comfortable shoes in Peshawar Saddar, with limited pocket
money (as can be the case with all private college teachers), my husband had one of his many other unique experiences on the road. Before
moving to next part of the incident, I would like you to know that we are
sensitive, ordinary, middle class people, too busy to fend for ourselves-
thanks to the great gift handed over to us in the form of Capitalism.
Peshawar Saddar
is home to many beggars- young, old, handicapped and kids too. Some begging for alms, others
asking for medical help for some relative, few advertising their mutilated body parts for a chance of bigger reward. Kids aged twelve, eleven or under
selling candies and chewing gums. Many professional and not so professional
paupers approached my husband asking for alms. He shrugged them all, just like
anyone of us would do while waiting in the car. There is a rule to
follow before any 'contribution'. If you have to give alms, give it when you are
leaving (the shopping centre in your car) or else 'they' will swarm you and your vehicle. It is only but natural
that as humans we avoid such situations when 'reality' is staring at us right
in the face. When we realize that it is more of 'them' and less of us. When we
realize that it is a minority that always rules. When we realize that children
in Africa do die of hunger and our children are going right in that direction!
But... we want to turn away because we 'think' we cannot do anything. And that
is when we agree and unhesitatingly blurb that pet statement, 'this is the States responsibility to
feed and clothe them', while we are shopping for expensive branded clothes.
While a variety
of help seekers came and went away, this kid aged around 8 years, carrying a
plastic tray dressed with candies, diagonally strapped to his torso moved
towards the car and asked my husband if he would buy some chewing gums. The kid
was small, innocent and belonged to an age group when children like to play
most of the time. For a child of his age, he seemed very serious and dismal of life. My husband became curious and started interviewing the child regarding his
small business in Pashto which is our mother tongue.
Husband: 'How
many do you sell each day?'
Kid: 'Five or
four.'
Husband: 'How
much do you sell one for?'
Kid: 'Rs. 7
each.'
Husband: 'And how much it costs and what are your profits?'
Kid: Rs. 5 each,
I make two rupees on each chewing gum.' The reply boggles my husband.
Husband: 'What
does your dad do?'
Kid: 'He teaches
children to read the Holy Quran'.
The child now
became peculiar of my husband and so unhesitatingly questioned him, 'Why don't you
rich people give money to poor people like us so we can buy food?' My husband was
speechless because the question asked was very cryptic in nature.
According to our
definitions we are not rich, but to impoverished people like this child, owning
a car can only be characteristic of the rich even though the car might be 10 years old
and fuel prices sky high. This kid goes to school in the morning and returns to
his business in the evening. At a tender age, he got to realize that earning a
few rupees is not easy. He travels all the way from home on local bus along
with his cousin- a partner in his small enterprise. My husband wanted to prolong his interview but the kid seemed to be in a hurry because he had to grab other
potential customers. My husband said, 'I don't have money or change.' To this the
kid mocked, 'You are sitting in such a big car and you do not have Rs. 7?!'
After my husband narrated the above, the incident led me to question myself. Why don't I feed the poor by living a
simpler life and by not promoting materialism? Why I want to be accepted in a society that does not even care, by
buying new clothes for every event costing Rs. 5000/- the least if it has to be
a wedding function. This all is done in order to show 'others' how well I am doing
after getting married! And if I cannot afford that, a simple stitched three
piece suit costs Rs. 2000/- the minimum. And if you want to deteriorate the
quality even further that would be 'Rs. 1500/- madam'! This is something this
kid's mom still cannot afford! Why I cannot do anything about it?! Why 'We' cannot do anything about it?!
It is easy to point fingers at others but it would be more worthwhile if we critically examine ourselves first. There is no use of gaining false pleasure and warmth from branded clothes, they might be a status symbol but individual recognition comes from ones social conduct. As a society we must uphold our lost past traditions of caring for our neighbors and the needy. Imagine what change only this could bring! Revolutions like these do not just happen, they are brought by the people, individually on a united front.
