I saw this man on our college bus. Years ago.
Young, clad in dhoti, he sat right in front facing us.
He was chewing on tobacco throughout the entire journey.
Now, as the bus moved rapidly, he had to spit out some of the red, accumulated stuff from his mouth.
He tried to pry open the window next to him. It didn't budge.
He tried and tried with all his might. His mouth threatened to burst out its contents any second.
But the window didn't budge.
How could it? When all he had to do was to press down both the ends, in order to lift it up.
But the poor guy didn't know that. He looked helplessly around.
None of us went to his rescue. We sat and just stared at him.
Finally, after fiddling with the window a good half hour, he managed to open it. Out flew the red juice.
He looked relieved.
To this day, I've not forgiven myself for not rising to the occasion and helping the guy out.
All of us just stared at him. None lifted a finger.
Was it because he was poor?
What if he were in rich clothes?
Would the scene have been different?
