"Hi sexy" a man calls from his bike. "Be happy! Live long life!" a doped up hippy calls. "Namaste Madam! Fruit?" calls an ever hopeful man with a bike laden with fresh fruit, conveniently ignoring the fact I am already carrying the stuff from another bike down the road. Honk, honk! "Namaste! Do you want something? Have a look inside!" from the pashmina stalls along the roadside.
All I can think of is finding a toilet. My tummy gurgles.
Then around the corner I see the man with one leg. Everything suddenly goes quiet. This is the moment I have been waiting for. He is clasping his hands together in front of a couple of white girls in a restaurant. They are not interested. I have done the same. But today is different. I take ten pounds from my wallet and hand the wad of notes to him. A grin envelopes his face as he looks up at me, and for the first time I see him for what he is, a human being and not a beggar. It is the equivalent to 2 days wages for a well paid Nepali. I wish I could explain that it is a present from my brother Jonti, who had seen him last year and had decided after passing him on the street that he wanted to help, and gave me he money to take out. I return his smile and carry on, happy to have lived this day to do this...
