Pauper Phobia

Sometimes it just so happens that while walking in the streets of a crowded city that tries to swallow you through the dirt and dust with its hollowing tentacles, I have some casual encounters with paupers, beggars, and vagabonds. This is when fear creeps up and overwhelms my body and soul. There are no words to express the guilt, disgust and fear I experience. Why does this unbearable lust to get rid of everything and hide in the shrubs not leave me alone?! Something starts chirping in my ears: DO NOT LOOK! LOOK AWAY! After a while, already out of the ‘danger’ and continuing my old way, I force myself to think about positive things awaiting me in the future. Afterwards, the aftermath commences. I feel embarrassed before society and ashamed of my ego. Instead of helping, I found myself reluctant. Moreover, I hid in the running and crept out like the true culprit. Then, why do I feel suffocated and uncomfortable in front of me?! It resembles being caught red-handed while doing something unfair or immoral.

The issue of the aforementioned situation is far more complicated and deep than we might think. The current of transcendental thoughts has a severe clash with reality. Each thought has a solid right to exist, and emotional stress is beyond handling. Furthermore, there is a cruel reality that is unlikely willing to compromise. During people-in-need encounters, we face ordeals within us, we think about their positions, needs, material insecurity and dozens of reasons hidden behind their beggings. Perhaps, we consider them unworthy of our attention and concern, since we are unaware of the reasons for putting them on the streets. After all, the money we are supposed to donate to show our support is the form of energy we are going to sacrifice; are we ready to lose a piece of energy while being overworked and exhausted?! An uncanny feeling of happiness hinders us from doing a deed of kind behaviour, the happiness of not being one of them, and the self-satisfaction that comes from realizing how lucky or reputed we are. Consequently, there is a battle between pragmatism and morality. Then comes regret… Torturing oneself by judging doings, morals, upbringing… Justifying by not having enough clues, information, money… Funny somehow, but frustrating on the whole. Simultaneously, one keeps remembering some people’s couldn’t-care-less attitude towards help seekers. Why should we care whilst others don’t? What holds society joined? What makes us, human beings, different from other living creatures? And finally, what’s so special about humanity and virtue? Arguably, this primate-evolutionary conflict makes all of us unique knights-errant. Two ambiguous feelings reside alongside. The first is primitive, selection theory-based, and survival-focused, whereas the latter is profound, sophisticated and compassionate. While one robs and steals, the other dresses up as a giver and gifter. Nonetheless, the inner motive is still uncertain. Do we truly despise our helplessness or is it just the shame labelled by the society we are surrounded by?!

And in the fullness of time, I wonder to myself: Are other question-tormented souls out there or am I the only one in here?