July 2008 - His mangled face lit up when he saw me, and he gave me a grin of genuine pleasure. I couldn't bring myself to return the smile, I was revolted. He was naked, his body blackened with grime, insects enveloping his body, seeming to do a better job of covering his nakedness than the tattered piece of cloth on the lower part of his body (which might have been trousers at some point of time). The rotten banana that he had picked up from the dustbin and was now greedily devouring stank, of death and degradation. There are thousands, perhaps millions, of these people, less in my area because it is newer, but when I'm walking down Park Street trying to find a bus or taxi to take me back to the safety of my room in the hostel, I occasionally trip over their huddled bodies, and recoil in terror. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to live in this hell-hole. I want to run away, far away, where I don't have to see their wretchedness.
December 2008 - An overwhelming feeling of pity had me hunting around in my pocket, and triumphantly handing her a 50 rupee note. The shock on her face pleased me. I smiled. She did not return the smile, but quietly took the money and went away. I was positively glowing in my feeling of self-righteousness. Two minutes later the smile on my face vanished, as did my conceit and vanity. She was being brutally battered by a man, almost twice her size, either her husband or her boss. He had seen me hand her the money. Her pitiful pleas that she needed the money for her two month old baby, fell on deaf ears. I saw him pluck away the note I had given her, and slap her so hard that she was knocked over, her baby falling with her. I saw him coming in my direction, and left hurriedly, hoping he hadn't seen me watch. I couldn't talk to anyone for a week after that, my food tasted bland and going to class seemed hypocritical. I questioned everything, my existence, the purpose of my life, wondering at the unfairness of it all, believing in the absolute pointlessness of trying to help anyone. My bubble of idealism had just burst, and how!
October 2009 - The tug on my t-shirt annoyed me. I knew what it meant; I was being accosted by the usual horde of ten year old pests begging near the City Centre. I turned around, and angrily screamed at them to go away. It was pointless. They wouldn't budge. I tried ignoring them, and took a sudden interest in my friend's boyfriend troubles. They still wouldn't go away; walking behind us, begging, making pathetic faces. I finally gave in, and handed them a 10 rupee note with a look clearly expressing how exasperated I was. They quickly pocketed it, and ran away, but not before sneering at me, some even blowing me exaggerated kisses. I turned back, nodding my head in frustration, realizing for the millionth time perhaps, that they were the real masters of this city.
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