Charity

A steady diet of moral science classes, with its emphasis on the spirit of 'Giving' had created in me a need to be the Good Samaritan. But in my nine to five job I was so caught up in pushing files that the cold professional took over and mercilessly stamped out all charitable intentions. Even so, once in a while my conscience would made a dent in this professional facade. This would result in marathon telephone sessions where I would made inquiries about the various charitable institutions in the city. And then another file with its various anomalies would come along and yet again bid adieu to my good intentions. And so this comical thrust and parry went on.

And then one cold and blustery morning the mail bought in an invitation to an intellectual forum convened to discuss how an individual could help the lesser blessed. I accepted the invitation with unseemly alacrity hoping thereby to end finally the rumblings of my ill-tempered, oft-neglected conscience. So I togged up in my cotton attire hoping to absorb all the charitable vibes with the porosity of the garment.

At the appointed time I made my enthusiastic way to the venue of the Forum and found myself gawking at the Grecian portico of a palatial house. With great trepidation I walked into a room full of expensively dressed men and women partaking of drinks and savouries. I faltered thinking I had gate crashed into the wrong gathering and would have turned back but was carried forward on a stream of social pleasantries. I was introduced to a motley gathering which included not only scions from industrial houses and the media but also a sprinkling of bureaucrats. The important thing I was told, was that all those gathered without exception, had been commended for 'social' work and were agents for internationally renowned charitable organizations. Snatches of conversation seem to give a lie to the introduction since they were solely about business, parties, clothes and contacts.

After a while the meeting was called to order and the speaker of the forum was introduced . He was,we were told the head of a newspaper group in the city who dabbled in various charitable projects. To my utter dismay the desultory talk of the gentleman spreaker seemed entrapped in the mire of 'I' 'ME', 'MINE'. His talk was peppered with well-known names from various fields which were invariably prefixed by a nonchalant "My Friend......". Then with Pope-like brevity on the subject of the talk he opined "Money is power" and exhorted all to contribute financial aid to good causes. What about people like us I wailed whose pay packets do not allow for such largesse. But my tinny voice was submerged in a din of applause, quite at variance though, with the quality of the talk.

Then began the interaction session where suggestions of an ostensibly charitable nature came thick and fast. "The city dwellers should be given paper bags to keep the environs clean" opined a gentleman striking a match to his pipe. "Sweets and fruits should be distributed to natives of the adopted village on festivals" stated a lady and in a practiced manner made a sign of victory as a photographer clicked her for posterity. "Cultural exchange programs must be given a fillip so that techniques for social-economic improvement used in the United States or in Europe could be applied to India" piped in another gentleman volunteering to lead an experimental group to New York. And so it went on.

What school, I wondered had given them a concept of charity so different and so much more comfortable than my own. Well!! even a conscience a could be sealed and gagged by greenbacks. To each his own, I thought as I bade a reluctant good-bye to my awakening charitable spirit and pledged to myself to the more individualized concept of "charity begins at home".



Contributed by: Rachy Singh