[Fiction] Loan
“I am here for a loan”, I said.
He looked at me suspiciously through his pince-nez glasses. In a nanosecond he seemed to have sized me up as a wide smile blossomed on his face.
“Welcome Sir. Isn’t that why we have opened shop? Just a moment, let me get you the Brochure. By the way, what kind of a loan are you looking for?” Professionalism oozed from his words.
“I have nothing to pledge or provide as collateral. So, I guess it could only be a personal loan.” I shot back.
He handed over the Brochure and application forms to me. After hurriedly filling up the form, I pasted my photographs and handed over the form to him.
“Sir, you seem to have done a survey of the market already.” I think he winked at that, or did he? “You must also be aware that the interest rates on a personal loan are high?!”
“Yes, I am. Here, these are my tax returns and my identity proofs. I think these should suffice. I have an account in your Bank as I have said in the form. Kindly transfer the money to that account.”
“Your tax-returns are nice. These make you eligible for more. Won’t you like to take a bit more?”
“No, my friend, this should make me content.”
The clock was about to strike seven when I got up and shook hands with him. Walking out of the Bank, I felt relieved. A problem stood solved. Now I could concentrate on better things.
The market was bustling with activity. Neon lights were slowly coming to life on Billboards. Housewives shopping for groceries and vegetables, Auto mechanics winding up the day’s work, small eateries getting slowly crowded, I registered all from the corner of my eye as I walked down. How mundane!! How do people get satisfaction by going through the same motions day in and day out?
My car was parked across the road.
The pedestrian subway looked clean today. There were neither any hawkers nor too many users today. As I climbed up the staircase at the other end, I felt a small lug on my trousers. Alarmed, I turned back. He was sitting on one of the steps, a weather-beaten, bearded face. Was it a piece of sack he had improvised in order to wear? Yes. With a worn out Aluminum bowl held in his other hand, he looked at me, pleadingly. He might have said something before, but I didn’t hear.
“Please lend me Ten Rupees. I have nothing at all with me, no one, no house, nothing to wear or nothing to eat. It is cold outside. I haven’t eaten for two days. I know you can give me more, but just lend me Ten Rupees. Babu, if I ever can, I will surely pay you back. God will shower his blessings on you, Babu!”, He pleaded.
Involuntarily, my hands went into my pocket and fished out the wallet. I dropped a Ten Rupee note into his bowl. Did I see a tear or two in his eyes? Probably, yes. Unmindful of his loud thanksgivings, I hurriedly walked up the steps and reached my car. A slight drizzle had started. I got into the car, inserted the keys and switched on the wiper. Images flashed on the wind-screen. The whole last hour whizzed past my eyes in a moment, holding my attention. Was it not me, with that begging bowl in the sub-way?
Vijay © 26th March, 2006
He looked at me suspiciously through his pince-nez glasses. In a nanosecond he seemed to have sized me up as a wide smile blossomed on his face.
“Welcome Sir. Isn’t that why we have opened shop? Just a moment, let me get you the Brochure. By the way, what kind of a loan are you looking for?” Professionalism oozed from his words.
“I have nothing to pledge or provide as collateral. So, I guess it could only be a personal loan.” I shot back.
He handed over the Brochure and application forms to me. After hurriedly filling up the form, I pasted my photographs and handed over the form to him.
“Sir, you seem to have done a survey of the market already.” I think he winked at that, or did he? “You must also be aware that the interest rates on a personal loan are high?!”
“Yes, I am. Here, these are my tax returns and my identity proofs. I think these should suffice. I have an account in your Bank as I have said in the form. Kindly transfer the money to that account.”
“Your tax-returns are nice. These make you eligible for more. Won’t you like to take a bit more?”
“No, my friend, this should make me content.”
The clock was about to strike seven when I got up and shook hands with him. Walking out of the Bank, I felt relieved. A problem stood solved. Now I could concentrate on better things.
The market was bustling with activity. Neon lights were slowly coming to life on Billboards. Housewives shopping for groceries and vegetables, Auto mechanics winding up the day’s work, small eateries getting slowly crowded, I registered all from the corner of my eye as I walked down. How mundane!! How do people get satisfaction by going through the same motions day in and day out?
My car was parked across the road.
The pedestrian subway looked clean today. There were neither any hawkers nor too many users today. As I climbed up the staircase at the other end, I felt a small lug on my trousers. Alarmed, I turned back. He was sitting on one of the steps, a weather-beaten, bearded face. Was it a piece of sack he had improvised in order to wear? Yes. With a worn out Aluminum bowl held in his other hand, he looked at me, pleadingly. He might have said something before, but I didn’t hear.
“Please lend me Ten Rupees. I have nothing at all with me, no one, no house, nothing to wear or nothing to eat. It is cold outside. I haven’t eaten for two days. I know you can give me more, but just lend me Ten Rupees. Babu, if I ever can, I will surely pay you back. God will shower his blessings on you, Babu!”, He pleaded.
Involuntarily, my hands went into my pocket and fished out the wallet. I dropped a Ten Rupee note into his bowl. Did I see a tear or two in his eyes? Probably, yes. Unmindful of his loud thanksgivings, I hurriedly walked up the steps and reached my car. A slight drizzle had started. I got into the car, inserted the keys and switched on the wiper. Images flashed on the wind-screen. The whole last hour whizzed past my eyes in a moment, holding my attention. Was it not me, with that begging bowl in the sub-way?
Vijay © 26th March, 2006
posted by Mahfuuz | 8:14 PM
1 Comments:
Wonderful writing Vijay!
Pragya
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