By a Realtime Contributor
“I saw something during my trip to India that I can never forget.
An elderly couple, both in their seventies, were sitting by the railway station, shining peoples’ shoes. They looked very tired. Their clothes were old and torn. People were yelling at them to hurry up, but they kept working silently.
There was something different about them. It felt like they didn’t belong to that kind of work. My train was delayed for two hours, so I had plenty of time to watch them.
I only had 600 rupees in my wallet. I wanted to help them somehow. But I felt they wouldn’t accept money directly — they were working, not begging. So I went to a nearby tea seller and asked him to give them tea and breakfast, and told him to say it was from someone who cared.
He looked at me and said, “Sahib, woh nahi lenge.” (Sir, they won’t take it.)
I asked him to try anyway. After ten minutes, he somehow convinced them to accept the food.
The tea seller then told me something that broke my heart.
“They’ve been coming here every day for the last six months. They used to be daily wage workers. They have five children who are all married and doing well in life. This couple worked so hard to raise their kids and give them education. But now, not one of their children wants to care for them.”
“They are homeless,” he said quietly.
I remembered reading something similar in an article years ago. The words still echo in my mind:
“We spent 30 years working hard so our children wouldn’t have to live in slums like we did. Turns out we failed — not one of their homes has space for us.”
I don’t think I’ve seen anything sadder or more heartbreaking than this.”