The Lesser Jerk
"Oh God, make me a kinder, more appreciative person. A more giving person. Save me from passing crude comments or making raunchy jokes about those beggars outside your Mosque, who are probably wealthier than me at the moment for they are able to afford a bottle of Coke and take a cab home whereas I have not a speck in my pocket. Oh God, also grant me the patience to accept the fact that the taxi charges have been increased across the board. Please don't increase petrol prices, though, Lord. I just bought a Chevrolet. Ameen".
With that supplication, the Lesser Jerk bravely stepped outside the mosque onto new frontier. As what others would attest of him and he would unabashedly admit, of late he had been the lesser jerk than he ever was. These days he cursed less when he had to take the peak-hour bus, which usually comes jam-packed with people like sheep stuffed into a sardine can. He no longer cursed at reckless young motorcyclists who cut into his lane dangerously at an inch. Instead he wished them a long life. He appreciates his neighbours and friends better. He adopts every second Friday of the month as “Be Less Anti-Social Day”.
On his way out, he was confronted by groups of beggars, of all sorts, male and female. “Assalamu’alaikum!”they cried almost in unison with both hands outstretched to him, expecting some monetary gift. He frowned. Some of these beggars have made begging their occupation. They’d come with their entire families. They’d sit down outside the mosque to crack corny jokes and sometimes even tease the mosque goers. “Sir! Hahaha. You look extraordinarily handsome today, Sir! Hahaha. Did you get a raise? Hahaha. Or a divorce? Hahaha. You look extraordinarily rich today, Sir! Hahaha.” Beggars have never seemed so happy to beg. But these beggars certainly does appear so. It’s their art. It brings to his mind how Nabi Isa, or Jesus, as he is more popularly known these days, took a whip to chase moneylenders out of the place of worship. He fought the urge.
Yet, he maintained a weak smile and kept his head low as he slowly made his way out through the maddening group of beggars who appeared to have switched their target to someone wealthier looking than he was.
His last stride was blocked by a little beggar, a little boy aged about 5, who looked up at him with outstretched hands as if to say “Sir, I don’t mean to disturb you or ask anything from you, Sir. But my mum makes me come here so that I can get extra money for my father who wants to buy a semi-detached property at Nassim Hill that costs him $5 million dollars. We only have half a million dollars left to raise. I know you don’t earn much as a primary school teacher, Sir, and you live in a government-subsidised three-room flat with your parents. But please Sir, can I have some cash?”
Quietly, he slipped a five cent coin into the little beggar’s small palm.
The Lesser Jerk walked away gratified. He was a lesser jerk than he ever was.
With that supplication, the Lesser Jerk bravely stepped outside the mosque onto new frontier. As what others would attest of him and he would unabashedly admit, of late he had been the lesser jerk than he ever was. These days he cursed less when he had to take the peak-hour bus, which usually comes jam-packed with people like sheep stuffed into a sardine can. He no longer cursed at reckless young motorcyclists who cut into his lane dangerously at an inch. Instead he wished them a long life. He appreciates his neighbours and friends better. He adopts every second Friday of the month as “Be Less Anti-Social Day”.
On his way out, he was confronted by groups of beggars, of all sorts, male and female. “Assalamu’alaikum!”they cried almost in unison with both hands outstretched to him, expecting some monetary gift. He frowned. Some of these beggars have made begging their occupation. They’d come with their entire families. They’d sit down outside the mosque to crack corny jokes and sometimes even tease the mosque goers. “Sir! Hahaha. You look extraordinarily handsome today, Sir! Hahaha. Did you get a raise? Hahaha. Or a divorce? Hahaha. You look extraordinarily rich today, Sir! Hahaha.” Beggars have never seemed so happy to beg. But these beggars certainly does appear so. It’s their art. It brings to his mind how Nabi Isa, or Jesus, as he is more popularly known these days, took a whip to chase moneylenders out of the place of worship. He fought the urge.
Yet, he maintained a weak smile and kept his head low as he slowly made his way out through the maddening group of beggars who appeared to have switched their target to someone wealthier looking than he was.
His last stride was blocked by a little beggar, a little boy aged about 5, who looked up at him with outstretched hands as if to say “Sir, I don’t mean to disturb you or ask anything from you, Sir. But my mum makes me come here so that I can get extra money for my father who wants to buy a semi-detached property at Nassim Hill that costs him $5 million dollars. We only have half a million dollars left to raise. I know you don’t earn much as a primary school teacher, Sir, and you live in a government-subsidised three-room flat with your parents. But please Sir, can I have some cash?”
Quietly, he slipped a five cent coin into the little beggar’s small palm.
The Lesser Jerk walked away gratified. He was a lesser jerk than he ever was.
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posted by The Reluctant Chauvinist at
1:32 PM
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