Identifying a Pure Heart

We were three. Wandering on the streets of Delhi. The city flooded with filth. While some are living the dream, others live like rats. But I never thought about it at that time.

Scrolling up the staircase towards the metro station, we were lost in the conversation. It was me, Dodo and Adi. I paid hardly any attention to passing faces. Just then an elderly man, carrying two big, heavy bags, fumbled, just a couple of steps ahead of us. He regained balance. Tired and soaked by the sun, he put down the bags. He was too ordinary to gasp our attention otherwise. Mine or Dodo's especially.

I was so engrossed in talking that I didn't even give him any look. But only Adi saw exactly what all should have seen. He swiftly went up to the old man and offered him help. The old man denied him out of dignity. Adi joined us back in our talk. It happened so quickly that I didn't even take a pause in my verbal shit. Avoiding eye contact, giving indifferent looks, Adi pretended as if nothing happened. He kept walking. And so did we, as me and Dodo exchanged glances.

Do we need a reason to be good? That day, it differentiated us. The pure and the corrupt. I envied him. Though it was a very usual incident, I still remember it. I could just wish, I had such a heart.