The Season of the Savior

Pratap was nothing if not consistent. He had spent every December, the month of Christmas, and the months preceding it, begging for alms on a street corner, with a bench close by where he slept. Pratap was dressed in a frayed shirt and shorts, with a weather worn shawl around his shoulders, to keep the chill out of his bones. Unfortunately, it was a windy evening and therefore blasts of chill air kept buffeting his thin body.

But despite all this, Pratap was happy. He was a happy man and his life hadn’t been able to steal his smile away from him yet. It was the season for Santa Claus lookalikes to frequent the shelves of stores and the seats in malls. Green trees were also being sold starting from 10 rupees per unit and rising up to 85 rupees.

Pratap started to beg from 6 AM. He noted certain joggers pass him by, and collected five coins from them. Next came the office goers around 9AM who dropped maybe a rupee into his bowl. After this, pedestrians strolled by, too busy to notice Pratap amid the sea of faces and beggars. He had a regular patron however, who dropped by with five rupees. By 11 AM, Pratap had saved up enough money in coins to have a loaf of bread and a cup of tea at a footpath tea stall. This was lunch. He then repaired to his bench and slept a little, before being back on begging duty at 3  PM. Unfortunately, he didn’t make too much money for the first four hours, but from 7 PM, the usual office going crowd returned home and passed his station by, dropping coins as they went. He also had the night shift workers to look forward to at this time.

This was Pratap’s usual routine. But, this story is not about Pratap’s routine, it is about Christmas. Although so far the only mention of the season has been a fleeting part of the above paragraph, give me some more time to bring season’s felicitations to you, my dear reader.

Pratap knew a little bit about Christmas. It was a season of joy. The passersby used to give coins more freely during this time and the atmosphere was jovial if not breathtakingly joyful. However, something unforeseen is going to happen to Pratap this day. Santa Claus and his reindeer usually looked him over, but today he would not be cast aside.

The morning started as usual for Pratap on the twenty fourth day of December. First the joggers, and then the office crowd marched their beat past him. It was a Saturday, so the office crowd was a little thin, seeing as a lot of them took an extended weekend trip to some nearby resort. However, by the time Pratap ate his lunch at the tea stall, he had a fair amount of money with him. It was not sufficient for him to have a cup of tea however and he had to contend with just the half pound loaf of bread.

It was then that he noticed the dog.

The dog had snuck up on him from across the street and was wagging its tail at him. He had a hungry look in his eyes and looked expectantly at Pratap’s loaf of bread. Pratap tore off a piece and tossed it to him. The dog took it in his mouth and ran off, before Pratap could change his mind and demand the piece back. Pratap went to sleep a little hungry, but happy because he had helped a fellow creature.

When Pratap woke, evening had started to spread an inky cloak across the sky. He noticed it was 6PM and he had missed the lunchtime crowd. Pratap swore. He was not a man of violent temperament but when you are a beggar, lunchtime crowds count for a decent 10 to 15 rupee intake. He squatted down at his spot and he waited for people to pass. Some ignored him, others tipped him. He was offered a piece of cake by a small boy, whose mother was looking the other way. He noticed people wearing red hats with white tips. Christmas was on the way.

Pratap begged till 10 PM that night. It got steadily colder. Then the wind started to blow in chilling bursts of air that buffeted against the beggar sitting cross legged with his begging bowl before him and a hungry look in his eyes. Pratap coughed- a wheezing cough- and cleared his throat. He decided to call it a night. He went to a shop that was still open and purchased a loaf of bread. Wrapping his shawl tightly around himself he hobbled to his bench. He had just unwrapped the loaf, when he saw that the dog from the afternoon was back.

Pratap broke the bread in two. One half he ate. The other half he fed to the dog. He then shook the crumbs off himself and lay down on the bench. The steel was bitterly cold against his back, but after about half an hour, it became warm enough to lie on without discomfort. Pratap slept heavily.

Meanwhile, up in the sky a fat man in a red outfit with a hat and a sled drawn by reindeers passed by.

Pratap woke on Christmas day, chilled to the bone. He yawned, and wrapped his shawl, which was also his blanket around him once again. He noticed the dog lying curled up under the bench. It stirred when it heard Pratap move and came up to him and licked his hands.

Pratap smiled. He was poor and it was going to be a cold Christmas, but he was not alone. It would not be a lonely Christmas.

Let us now repair to yonder church and listen to the service, while our two friends revel in each other’s company.

The Bilge Master