The Friday Presence

Come Friday morning, and he used to be present at our gates for alms, without fail. In fact, his visits were so regular that very often we used to realize that Friday had dawned only by his presence.

Lanky and dark, the frail man, well past his prime, was always dressed shabbily in a tattered lungi and a full shirt, both of which had seen better days. A makeshift bag, created from old scraps of cloth, was slung over his stooping shoulders. Perhaps it held all his worldly possessions, painstakingly collected over the passage of time…

With an unsteady gait, the bent, skeletal figure tightly gripped the metal frame of the gate as though for support, and rattled the latch to announce his arrival to the household.

More than the sound of the rattling latch, it was a deep, hollow cough that made us aware of his arrival. As I went out with a few rupees in my hands, I would often witness acute spasms of dry, racking cough that would hit his frail body, causing him to bend over and gasp for breath.

He would accept the money I handed him, acknowledge his gratitude by raising his bony hands to his forehead, and depart as insignificantly as he had come.

Some Fridays, he looked really ill. As I went out to give him the customary money, he would show me a medical prescription, indicating the need to buy medicines. On other days, it would be a wound on his leg which required a doctor's attention. Then I would have to go back to get some more money to hand over to him.

But sometimes, in my hurry to finish the morning's chores before leaving for work, I would willfully choose to ignore the plea in his eyes. I would then watch him slowly head towards other homes in our neighbourhood, anticipating the generosity of yet another household.

The familiar Friday face is no longer to be seen.

It has been a few months now since his visits stopped, and often I wonder where he is…

Could it be that he is too ill to move about and earn enough for his daily bread? Could it be that he has relocated to another place, to visit other homes every Friday? Or could it be that he has finally found a blissful release from the miseries of this world?

Wish I knew…