Peanuts…, peanuts for five rupees!” the little boy selling peanuts said loudly.

Hina turned her head only for a fraction of a second, she was used to the peanut boy’s voice. For past few months he was always there on this street, following potential customers around till someone got tired of him and relinquished a crumpled five rupee note. The boy would look at it as if it were a treasure, breathe a “Thank you, sir” while handing over a packet of peanuts and move on to his next quest.

The boy was not much older than Hina, and while Hina always wore pristine, pressed clothes, he wore a dirty shirt that was too big for him, and trousers that were folded at the ankles.

Once, as she was walking, the boy came to her side. “These are just for five rupees, baji,” he pleaded.

But before he could complete, she said angrily, “I don’t want it, go away!” and pushed him away. He staggered a bit but didn’t let his shoulder bag loose, he looked down and went away.

Hina didn’t think about it until the next week, when she was walking on the same street again. The boy was selling peanuts as usual, when suddenly he saw someone that made his face light up like a bulb.

The boy almost ran to a man who had spotted the peanut-boy and was already taking out his wallet. To Hina’s astonishment, the man placed his hand on the peanut boy’s shoulder and asked him how his family was doing. The boy replied that his father was still jobless and his mother was very sick. The man patted his shoulder and said that he would buy all the peanuts off him.

The boy’s delight knew no bounds. He kept shaking the man’s hand and thanking him, uttering praises and blessings in equal measure. The man walked off. After a few steps, he stopped and turned around. He came back to the boy and, with a smile, he handed over the peanut bag to the dazed boy.

That day, when Hina went home, she could hardly look at herself in the mirror; that’s how ashamed she was of herself. She had pushed the boy. To her, he was a mere annoyance.

How had it never occurred to her that he might not have a choice? She couldn’t imagine a boy of that age being the breadwinner of a family any more than she could imagine herself having to worry about her dad’s job or anyone’s hospital expenses. She had done nothing to deserve a better life than the peanut boy.

This incident taught Hina a lesson she never forgot: that you shouldn’t look at people who are better-off than you are, but the ones who aren’t; that there are people out there who have to struggle every single day to get the basic necessities which we take for granted; that instead of complaining about the brand of your shoes, you should be thanking to God that you have feet.

From that day, Hina never wasted anything. She never took two tissues out of the box when she needed just one; she didn’t buy new shoes or dresses or toys until the ones she had weren’t usable anymore. She never forgot that she could easily have been the peanut boy; that in fact, one day, she still could be.

And as penance for pushing the boy that first day, Hina bought two packs of peanuts from him every time she saw him. Because now, when she looked at the boy, she didn’t see his oversized, dirty, smelly clothes. Instead, she saw a child just like her, someone with the same dreams — but one who lacked the good fortune to fulfil them.