Developing a character

We saw him every morning on our way to school. He was always there as far back as any of us can recall. May be he had always been there. He always looked the same, yet interesting. He was never interested in us or anyone else around him. Day after day we saw him sitting alone in the corner of the street. His eyes were always closed and he said things to himself as he played with his string of stone beads. But even with his eyes closed he could sense the presence of others around him; every time we tried moving close to him, his fingers moved over the stone beads faster and his chanting became louder. The closer we reached the faster and louder he became; much that we became scared of him and ran away.

We never understood was how his white shalwar kurta was always so white and why he never wore any shoes. We initially thought he did not have shoes so we arranged a pair of daddy’s old shoes for him. He never wore them, never even looked at them. We had put them next to him one morning and they stayed right where we put them for days. Some say he sold them away for money others say that someone stole the shoes from him. We prefer to believe the later.

On Sundays, we watched him for hours, hoping he will open his eyes or move from where he sat. Our hopes were never fulfilled. We often wondered about where he slept and what he ate. We secretly observed him at meal times and stayed up for as long as our school routine allowed but it never happened. He seemed glued to the ground he sat on. He never left and apparently never slept or ate.