the red plastic cup

went to the market, with people hustling in and out, making their way, minding their own business. amidst all these commotion, a man of silence stood out, a man who did not move like the rest, as he was on the floor, holding a plastic cup, barely half full of coins. what struck me was not how little he earned that day, but how can he escape this?

i hold no grudge, no predisposition, no prejudice against those who can't help but to ignore beggars whenever they pass by one. that coin you toss into the plastic cup might satisfy yourself and you wish to be helpful, or perhaps generous. you might be proud to have aid someone in need of money, to get through the day. you'll have this temporary satisfaction, thinking you've done some good. that "some" is something i would like to question. that "some" means it's only for one day. what about the rest? can you keep giving beggars money for the rest of their lives?

for every ringgit that a beggar obtain, it would make him a more dysfunctional member of the society. donations are meant to do someone a favour, to give someone a kick start, to give him a chance to start anew....NOT TO MAKE A LIVING OUT OF IT. pity isn't something that we should kick out of our nature. pity comes from our humanity, and perhaps, it is one of the thing that makes us humans. but such feeling doesn't last forever. one day, you'll grow tired of seeing how your pity and generosity have worked their way against your true intentions.

"you can give a man a fish, and you'll feed him for a day. if you teach him how to fish, he can feed himself for a lifetime". cliched perhaps, but it still holds a meaning relevant to the present. i don't believe that beggars are incapable of supporting themselves. i do realise that some of them are disabled and handicapped, but i saw a lady selling soft toys, with a chinese book on her lap and a smile on her face that just doesn't seem to fade away even when people aren't buying from her. she was in a wheelchair, with her legs skinnier than her weak arms. the beggar i saw was in exactly the same market as the lady. they were barely a hundred metres away from each other, but they were worlds apart. i have my pity for the beggar for losing his legs, but i have respect for the lady who did something more than holding a cup waiting for help. that's the difference. i don't believe beggars can't work to feed themselves. they just refuse to. self-pity or sloth, it must stop.

is it just me, or the act of holding up a cup resembles the act of waiting for money to fall from the sky?