A Young Beggar


     By Ayush Sinha
It was a beautiful morning; the weather was being nice, and birds were twittering in the sky. Taking the air, Joy came across a young beggar, a laughing stock.

“Why do you beg? You seem so young. Do you have no option other than that?” asked Joy, staring at the muddy clothes of the young beggar.

As a matter of course, the beggar decided not to utter even a single word, turning a deaf ear to Joy.

“Hey, wait. You people have taken up a good business; one doesn’t even need to invest. What is your name?” asked Joy, humiliating the young man.

“Sam. Sir, I beg your pardon. Please let me go,” said the young man, making for his other destination.

“Why do you do this?”

“Look, sir, I have not had anything to eat for the last three days. I beg your pardon. Please let me go,” begged Sam, putting on a brave face.

“So, are you not going to let me know the reason behind your begging?’

“I am an orphan.”

“O! I am so sorry. But how did it happen?” He was now showing deep interest in Sam’s past.

But the young child was perhaps in no mood to cast light on his past, walking away from Joy.

Joy stopped him once again, forcing him to cast light on his past.

“My father was a well-educated man who was working for an MNC as its CEO. Everything was going well until a man got so envious of his success that he could no longer see him in the office. He got him out by copying his signature, signing off on a wrong proposal. So honest a man was my father that he couldn’t put up with that. He died of a heart attack a couple of days after that incident. I lost my mother, too, a week after the death of my father. I know I am wretched! It happened while I was only eight years old,” said the young fellow, hiding his eyes, clouded with tears.

Joy was in a state of complete oblivion. Something had struck him; however, he couldn’t say what it was. He was numb. After a while, he asked, “Which MNC was your father working for?”

“Cosmic Groups.”

“What was his name?”

“Abhay. May I now go, sir?” asked Sam.

Joy went into hysterics. Hugging him by the scruff of his neck, he burst into tears. He knew what he had done eight years ago. Realizing his sin, he knew he was now home.

“Sam, my son,” said Joy, “look into my eyes. You are not alone any more. You needn’t wander any more. Come with me.”

After six years….

“So, Joy, should we get the deal final?”

“Raj, let me consult my elder son, Sam, and only then will I be able to answer,” said Joy, smiling at one of his oldest clients. 


About the author


Creation and destruction are not two different things. With every destruction of something old, there is a creation of something new. As a matter of fact, destruction is creation itself, the relationship between them being that of a cause and its effect. In the same way, we can see, death and birth are also not two different things. Every moment, in an organism, there is creation and destruction, and birth and death, nothing being permanent. One fears death because the mind wants security, or something that it thinks is permanent and permanently going to be with it.