Personal faith: Close Encounter On A Metro Street  

By MARGUERITE THEOPHIL  

Personal faith: Close Encounter On A Metro Street  

Moving out of my apartment to reach anywhere in Mumbai, I pass through slices of time. 'Yesterday' shows up, among other things, in the buffalo sheds I pass along-side my drive through the new, slick highway, which is 'today'.

'Tomorrow' is seen in the amazing imported car showrooms, right next to the buffalo sheds. Rows of shining cars that can go at dazzling speeds - for which we do not have the right roads.

The city is a stage set for millions of strange encounters, many of them sacred. Last week, my mother, who is fighting a legal battle over her house, asked me to go with her to the court for a hearing.

She begged me, "Dress right. No jeans and T-shirt. Please." I wore a pretty acceptable salwar-kurta, remembered the dupatta which I usually manage without. I even wore my new delicate chappals - pretty, strappy ones; more interesting to look at than to walk in.

Unable to get a taxi, and anxious to be on time, I set off to walk through the very crowded streets on the 20-minute walk to the court buildings. Halfway there I heard a loud voice behind me: "Chappal-chor" (slipper-thief). I walked on. But the voice followed me.

The voice, I soon found out, was directed at me! My accuser caught up with me as I strode past streams of people walking in the opposite direction, as I tried not to bump or be bumped. I turned to face him irritably... He was a beggar in rags, tall and robust with wild rolling eyes. " Chappal-chor ", he insisted, yelling and pointing repeatedly to his bare feet.

As was to be expected, a crowd encircled us. We were hemmed in. No one else spoke. The beggar continued: " Chappal-chor ". He wasn't yelling now, I wasn't rushing away - I had turned around and was facing him.

I felt angry and helpless. I was going to be late. How did I get into this? How must I get out of it? I looked directly into his eyes. He was enjoying himself hugely. The crowd swelled. Some said: "Let's beat up the madman." Others advised me to just walk away.

I looked straight at my accuser. We smiled at each other at the very same moment. Suddenly, the absurdity of it all hit me. I laughed out loud. My response seemed to worry the crowd, initially. But soon, in that moment, they seemed to melt away although they were still physically there.

Now that I was rocking with laughter, the beggar looked at me with suspicion. Then I bent down and pulled those new, expensive-looking, brown and gold, delicate leather chappals off my feet.

I held them out to him. The crowd gasped. I thought: "I am ready for him to have them, but how do I walk bare- foot through this street of dog-shit, rubbish and sharp stones?" He examined them carefully. He took a long time over this; he kept looking down at them and then back at my eyes. Finally, he said softly: "They are not mine." I put them on again and walked off.

For the first time that day I felt light. I felt connected with a sacred humanness that we both shared. He was sent to touch my life, to lighten my focus on imagined essentials; I was sent to colour his. I got to the court on time.

All the heavy deliberations seemed both necessary and irrelevant at the same time. I could even hold both of these attitudes together; neither of them overwhelmed me, or even nudged each other out of the way. I had tasted peace and balance. And it had happened in this one crazy encounter.

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More from same author see: MARGUERITE THEOPHIL  

See also: Personal faith, Faith and Belief, Spiritual Guidance, God and Religion, Peace on Earth, Peace of Mind, Love and Happiness, Life and Beyond, Body Mind and Soul)