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DEAR DIARY: A Confession
Dear Diary,
I have a confession to make. I hope writing on your crisp white pages would in some way, make my conscience lighter.
During my last summer vacations, on a bright sunny day, I was just relaxing in my bedroom with an interesting book in my hands when I was jolted out of my storybook world by a noise coming from downstairs. I went to my room’s window, which opened into the hall downstairs. Awaiting me there was a sorry sight that melted my heart. A poor woman dressed in tattered and torn rags stood there pleading with my mother.
“Baji Ji, Please help me! I only have one son whom I raised working day and night, washing dishes and mopping floors of other people’s houses. I didn’t deserve to see this day. Why didn’t I die before this?” She sobbed. “My son, Aslam, was badly hurt in a road accident. He is fighting for his life and these greedy doctors want me to bring one lakh rupees for his treatment. Baji Ji, I am a poor woman. I don’t have so much money. Please don’t let my son die.” She said before bursting into uncontrollable sobs.
“Stop this drama, woman!” my mother retorted. “Just last month, I gave you Rs2000 and now here you are back again begging for more. I am sick of your dramas.” My mother scolded her pitilessly before ordering her to get lost.
The scenario jolted me out of my wits. I always believed my mother to be a very caring and considerate person. How could she treat someone so badly? Two thousand rupees or so were not going to make a huge difference to us but it might save the life of someone in need.
As if in a trance, I walked out of the room. I headed straight to my mother’s bedroom. Only I knew where the key to her cupboard was, so taking advantage of her trust in me, I gripped the key with sweating hands and opened the cupboard lock. Taking out my mom’s purse I took out about Rs1500. Then I ran downstairs.
I ran after the poor woman and caught up with her just when she was about to walk out of our gates. I put a hand on her shoulder. Bewildered, she turned around. On seeing me her reaction at first was of astonishment but when I told her that I just wanted to help her son get proper treatment, her face contorted into a large grin.
She repeated her heart-touching story for me. I noticed some discrepancies this time but I was too overwhelmed with emotions to delve into the matter. Seeing the money in my hand, she almost snatched it from me. And before I could say anything, she dashed out of the gate.
What do I do Diary? I feel embarrassed even telling you about the following events. Of course, my heart felt heavy for doing something without my mother’s consent. I remember just running upstairs and locking myself in my room. I felt I could not face the world, particularly my mother. I knew my mom might not notice the disappearance of such a small amount but even if she did, the last thing she would think of would be her daughter stealing it. I am the kind of person who doesn’t even take an extra penny without telling my parents so this secret kept burning my insides.
Just a few days ago my mom found out that the woman did not even have a son. I feel even more ashamed of myself. I only wanted to do a good deed. Now I wonder if even God would ever count it as a good deed of helping someone.
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