The Beggar. Judgement Is Hard To Accept. Poem by Subhadip Bhattacharya

A beggar asked me for alms
on the footpath. She was about 18 with
a child in her arms, wearing a torn petticoat
and a face rugged from the experience of the road.

I could not accept. It was difficult to say,
what I could not accept.

Was it her, the child on her arms, the alms
or myself...
As if I was myself asking for alms.
Acceptance is big thing and
I was stiffened. My body stiff,
somehow I gave some money to her.
But this was not what I wanted to
give to her. I wanted to give her a job,
but that was an improbable task.

Later as I recalled it was not anything but judgement,
that I could not accept. That's how,
judgement is. It is subtle and hard to accept.
As if I was placed in one of the weighing
scales of a natural divine weighing machine,
bowed down from sky,
and the beggar on another weighing scale.

Then weighed, judged, sold and passed over.
But I did not judge. But the judgement I
encountered was unacceptable as always.