"He that lends to the poor lends to the Lord."
Well, these were His words jumping at me from His Book one evening, years ago, as I sat pondering. My maid had just asked me for a raise and I had rejected it thinking it was steep and unwarranted.
But then I thought I'd just see what my Friend would say. So I opened the Book at random to see the above words literally jumping at me.
It was uncanny.
Finally I decided to give the raise.
My Friend had won as always.
As I thought of this this morning, my mind reverted back to this one lady who lived in Vasant Kunj in Delhi years ago. She lived one floor below us. A very fair, plumpish woman, she had two tiny toddlers looked after by a maid. Her name was Mary.
I never knew her much. I saw their nameplate as Mathur whenever I passed their door.
But I knew all wasn't well in her home. We could hear shoutings and screamings often from their home.
One night, I saw her standing outside her shut door, leaning against the parapet. She looked at my eldest newborn I carried gingerly upstairs.
"So cute." she smiled.
Well, that was the only conversation we ever had all the while I lived there.
One evening there was some kind of screaming from downstairs again. I rushed to my balcony and found Mr Mathur standing in his bedroom balcony below us, smoking. His wife's voice could clearly be heard.
"Tujhe sooki roti aur sabji nahi chahiye...aur kuch chahiye? Chal ghar se bahar nikal." She yelled, obviously at her maid.
I got the gist of the situation.
Mr Mathur was wordless as usual, the henpecked variety.
My heart went out to the girl. What else would she do? Being fed on dry rotis and sabjis after a hard day's work maybe for ages when the family ate to their heart's content?
Why do we folk do this to the poor? Aren't they human beings created in God's image like we are?
Why can't we share our goodies with them too? What if we were in their situation?
Many questions. Few answers.
The Mathurs moved away months later. I so wish I had befriended her. Then I would have known why she behaved this way a whole lot better.
I hope Mrs Mathur has mellowed by now.
I hope Mary gets some thing nice to eat daily.
I wish somehow Mrs Mathur and many Mrs Mathurs in this nation read my piece and get jerked back to their senses.
