"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, all different varieties of footwear, just for 100 rs. per pair. Trendy, comfortable, and pocket-friendly..." the salesman bragged on about his 'fabulous' shoes and how wise a decision it was to buy his shoes from the temporary road-side stand on the busy sidewalk of a city-road lit by a trillion-zillion twinkling lights marking the festive season.
Tomorrow would be the big day and people were out and about shopping for the festival. Everyone was chattering to someone and looking around in awe, walking slowly, everyone... except one, he was walking fast, really fast, head bent down, not daring to lift his eyes from the dirty sidewalk, fearing that the rich lights and festivities would make his dull day even duller.
"yes, just hundred bucks for a pair of these white shoes..." were the words that caught his attention. He looked up at last and saw the stall, glittering with beaded lights and a small crowd gathered around it, looking curiously from shoe to shoe.
He looked at his feet clad in old, worn out slippers and with a sudden pang in his chest felt desire swell, swell until it turned into a monster, he wanted those white shoes.
He moved closer and looked again, looked at those white shoes, exquisite and delicate, white, almost emitting a sheen, that was when reality sneaked into his thoughts...
He was poor, very poor, he thought.
He had a home to pay for, even if it was just a rented room in a dingy, stinky neighborhood with narrow lanes where stray pigs and dogs roamed as if they owned the city. He had a wife and two kids to feed, all this with his meager salary... 100 rs. was a huge amount to him. He's doing fine in his slippers, he decided and giving one last look to those shoes he turned.
"Do you want these, sir?" asked the salesman as he was about to walk away. He turned, temptation tugging at his senses, "Umm..." was all that he said.
"These are unique, sir... latest fashion, last piece left... and sir, you're very lucky because you're even getting a discount on these..."
"oh good..." he said, never batting an eyelid, never moving his eyes from the object of his desire, "can't I have a close look?"
"Sure sir, there you go..." said the salesman as he handed him the shoes.
Should I buy these? Nah! It would be an extravagant expenditure for no reason...
But when he was about to return the shoes, he just couldn't let them go. It was like his hands had a mind of their own and this mind had no reasoning skills, all it knew was greed and desire. And his hands held on to those shoes greedily while his mind wanted to give them back.
And that was when he gave up and let this dangerously greedy mind take over and took out the money from his right pocket on an impulse and those shoes were his. It felt so good. His shoes. His new shoes.
He started again for his home, holding his shoes in his hands, looking more at them and less at the path he was walking on. It was just his feet accustomed to the path, that were carrying him and making him stop and then start again at right places and making him turn where there was a turn.
But the streets were crowded because of the festival and his feet were not used to walking in this thick crowd and all of a sudden he got pushed by someone, toppled and lost his balance and there went his new shoes right into a puddle full of mud.
He sat there on his knees for a long time, not saying anything, not aware of the people passing by, just looking... looking at his shoes drenched in mud. And then with sad slow movements, he picked them up and started for his home again, head bent down, pace slow, with his new shoes clutched to his chest.
Tomorrow would be the big day and people were out and about shopping for the festival. Everyone was chattering to someone and looking around in awe, walking slowly, everyone... except one, he was walking fast, really fast, head bent down, not daring to lift his eyes from the dirty sidewalk, fearing that the rich lights and festivities would make his dull day even duller.
"yes, just hundred bucks for a pair of these white shoes..." were the words that caught his attention. He looked up at last and saw the stall, glittering with beaded lights and a small crowd gathered around it, looking curiously from shoe to shoe.
He looked at his feet clad in old, worn out slippers and with a sudden pang in his chest felt desire swell, swell until it turned into a monster, he wanted those white shoes.
He moved closer and looked again, looked at those white shoes, exquisite and delicate, white, almost emitting a sheen, that was when reality sneaked into his thoughts...
He was poor, very poor, he thought.
He had a home to pay for, even if it was just a rented room in a dingy, stinky neighborhood with narrow lanes where stray pigs and dogs roamed as if they owned the city. He had a wife and two kids to feed, all this with his meager salary... 100 rs. was a huge amount to him. He's doing fine in his slippers, he decided and giving one last look to those shoes he turned.
"Do you want these, sir?" asked the salesman as he was about to walk away. He turned, temptation tugging at his senses, "Umm..." was all that he said.
"These are unique, sir... latest fashion, last piece left... and sir, you're very lucky because you're even getting a discount on these..."
"oh good..." he said, never batting an eyelid, never moving his eyes from the object of his desire, "can't I have a close look?"
"Sure sir, there you go..." said the salesman as he handed him the shoes.
Should I buy these? Nah! It would be an extravagant expenditure for no reason...
But when he was about to return the shoes, he just couldn't let them go. It was like his hands had a mind of their own and this mind had no reasoning skills, all it knew was greed and desire. And his hands held on to those shoes greedily while his mind wanted to give them back.
And that was when he gave up and let this dangerously greedy mind take over and took out the money from his right pocket on an impulse and those shoes were his. It felt so good. His shoes. His new shoes.
He started again for his home, holding his shoes in his hands, looking more at them and less at the path he was walking on. It was just his feet accustomed to the path, that were carrying him and making him stop and then start again at right places and making him turn where there was a turn.
But the streets were crowded because of the festival and his feet were not used to walking in this thick crowd and all of a sudden he got pushed by someone, toppled and lost his balance and there went his new shoes right into a puddle full of mud.
He sat there on his knees for a long time, not saying anything, not aware of the people passing by, just looking... looking at his shoes drenched in mud. And then with sad slow movements, he picked them up and started for his home again, head bent down, pace slow, with his new shoes clutched to his chest.
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