Mr Good's Time Machine

And within those deep eyes were clearly visible an unending agony of pain and hunger, of torture and suffering; they were eyes that once talked of hope and love. But now, glued to that worn-out attire of age-old skin, they spoke of nothing, but vanity and hollowness, the glitters of dreams which once made his life worth living hardly to be seen.I looked at the people traveling in the same compartment – some were a rich lot with nothing to disconcert them, and some were just the ordinary folks living from hand to mouth – and then back at the beggar. It was clear. We all live in different worlds, have our own worries, fears and joys. We are different, and these very differences are what make the world complete. It’s not for me to interfere in other people’s lives. Sorry, but it was not for me to help the beggar. I’ve got my own troubles, my own life and that’s where I’m supposed to be in. Not in the beggar’s.From the corner of my eye, I could see the old beggar slowly walking away from the compartment. Not wanting to linger on the thought of him, I looked out of the window hoping to find an interesting sight that might possibly liven up my spirit. And there, beyond the vast expanse of land, in the distant horizon was the sun sinking down and down, finally marking the end of the day.This same sun would rise again and it would be another morning. But this day, this very day, it was past. It is history written on the face of the sun. And I mused on how that history was written, on how the day was spent. I could feel regrets forming a lump on my throat, tears ‘rising from the heart and gathered to the eyes’. There, on that cold floor were the old man’s feet; there, was he with those amputated hands begging for his life. I thought of the many ways he could have lost those hands: it could be on trying to save other people’s lives that he met with the accident. I felt terrible. It had been a matter of a penny less to me, but to him, it was a matter of life or death, of existence or extinction. And I had not been able to part with a penny, just a penny.I thought of all those times when I had been a disappointment to people, to friends and even to my parents, how I had been rude to strangers, how I had lied or cheated on people. I looked back to that world where I had been a stubborn kid to my parents, a threat to my brothers, where I had insulted and made fun of people, I looked back to that malignant world of old. Moments, bad moments, all written by the hands of time, recorded in the sun, and never to be effaced.I looked around. It was growing darker, and satisfied that none of the people in the train were watching me, I wept. I wept because there was no choice, because I had made awful impressions of myself on people – strangers or of acquaintance – and because those impressions were going to last forever.How hard I may try, or how great a man I may become, I knew, I’d never be able to recall those moments. They occur just once in a lifetime or in many lifetimes, but their memories will last so long as time exists.Whilst thus I was contemplating, a small boy with a rather cute look approached the compartment. I could see, from his eyes, that he was smart and intelligent. And picturing the tortures and bruises he would receive, or the many times he would go hungry, I felt pity for him. Clever as he might be, I thought to myself, the boy could end up like the old man, having his dreams unfulfilled. His condition would not allow him to be what he could be. And I thought of the many beggars and poor men having good talents and not having the chance to exercise it.But this time, I was not going to make the same mistake I had made with the previous beggar. I decided, I’d make this one moment beautiful and memorable, that the boy would cherish it for the rest of his life. Yes, one sweet moment that will last for a lifetime than a sour moment that will last for a lifetime.I was going to do something good and time will record it. Doing a good deed is rather easy, I said to myself. We only need to bring alive the good aspect within us. I had learned from the story of R.L.Stevenson’s Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde that each man possesses two aspects – the good and the bad – and that whichever of the two is more in use, it becomes dominant to the other aspect. Indeed, the more good we do, the more suppressed our bad aspect becomes and the good in us being dominant, we tend to do more good deeds. I felt happy that I was going to exercise my good aspect.“I shall pass through this world, but once. Any good, therefore, that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now; for I shall not pass this way again.”So thus repeating, in my heart, a saying I had so much liked, I took a ten-rupee note out of my wallet and gave it to the boy, saying, “Here, take this. It’s the least I can do for you, I’m sorry.” Slowly and looking surprised, he took the money and went away. Surely, I said to myself, he had never before been given such a huge sum. No wonders for his being surprised.Pleased with myself that I could finally experience the joy of sharing, I looked out of the window and saw that we had reached Tatanagar Junction. I waited for the other passengers to get off, as having decided to be good at all times, I felt the need to have patience; only when after everyone from the compartment had left did I got off the train.Few minutes later, hoping to find the poor boy I had helped, I looked to my left with a feeling of being renewed in strength and in spirit. But what I saw there left me momentarily dumbstruck: and indeed, the boy he was – the brat holding the hands of a fat lady and heading for a car parked just outside, that seemed to be waiting for them. To heck with the heck! By Merlin’s dirty beard, the boy was no beggar after all. And right I was, anyway, no wonders for his being surprised.

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