Every day he walked past the homeless man sitting on the pavement in a world of his own, not holding out his hands, but begging for help silently. Every day he ignored him, until one day the homeless man stopped him and said:
"Hey, mister! Excuse me, I will tell you something and please listen until the end...I am not poor, I am rich, in fact, I have a lot of money. Every day when I used to go to work, I passed by a poor man on the pavement. He wasn’t extending his hands for help, he was just sitting there like a fixture. He seemed to be part of the place. I sometimes crossed over close to him or thought of giving him money. One day I stopped my car. I felt ill and dizzy. I opened the door to check the car but before I could reach the front I fell to the ground. No one was there and my sight was blurry, my eyes could see nothing but the sky. I opened my mouth to call for help but nothing came out. For a moment I saw the shadow of a man standing in front of me; a shadow resembling that poor, homeless man who sat on the pavement. I tried to talk but couldn't. I reached out. The man stood motionless. I dropped my hand, gave into the tiredness. The last thing I saw was a glimpse of the man moving away, fading from my vision.
At the hospital, the nurse told me that they were unable to contact my family as my phone was locked. My keys were beside me on the table and my wallet was in my back pocket. The doctor told me I had low blood pressure and had fainted. He would let me go home in half an hour. The hospital desk informed me that the person who brought me in had found me laying in front of my car, where I had fainted. I went home, told my family briefly what had happened but gave no details. I took two days off from work and spent most of that time going over what had happened. On the drive to work after the vacation I reached the spot where the man used to be on the pavement. He was not there. I parked the car and crossed the street. I found some leftover food and empty bags. I waited for a while but the man did not appear and I haven't seen him since.
My focus in work went downhill. All my thoughts were consumed by that man. So many questions went round and round in my head and I considered all the possibilities but no answers were forthcoming. I saw the image of that man in every poor, homeless person I passed in the street. I wasn’t sure that he was the one who had helped me but his disappearance resulted in me feeling in his debt. When the reality that I may never see him again finally hit me I decided to help his image in every poor person I met from then on.
Every poor beggar I saw, I would give a lot of money. To see their reactions of gratitude gave me great happiness. They were often very emotional when they saw a cheque many times larger than they had ever imagined. Time passed and I became engrossed in my new focus. My work became very boring, meaningless to me and I could only think of the end of the day when I could get back to helping the poor.
This pastime became a pleasant game but my feeling of elation was short lived. An air bubble gets bigger and bigger, shatters, and then disappears. The homeless people got their money and carried on as they always had. They lived their lives - of course vastly improved but nothing much changed. Poverty and the need became a part of their lives. They had built almost impenetrable walls around them, so resistant to change, I used to watch them from a distance. I began to despise myself. It seemed like they were in cages and I was throwing them food. Their behavior was mostly normal apart from the actions of one man. After I gave him some money, I walked away but continued to watch him. He moved from his normal spot. I walked behind him, he continued to march until he reached a place where another poor homeless man was sleeping on the ground. He bent down, put the money in his hand and walked away. I couldn't understand why he did this so I repeated the experiment several times more. Each time I found him in the same place. After I gave him the money he waited, then stood and followed the same path to the same place, to the same man; left the money and went.
Parallel to my lack of concentration at work, I suffered the same at home. I spent very little time with my family, often in silence. I was there in body only, while my mind wandered. Absorbed into a whirlpool of sand, I was becoming more and more lodged every day. It was something I liked to do but my need to escape was absurd and pointless. I didn't want to get out and if I tried I wouldn't be able to.
On my next tour of the homeless, I left my observations of the strange man until the end. I decided to watch him from afar, not go near him and see what he did. When I arrived at his place the man wasn't there. I waited for a while but he never appeared. I thought I had arrived too late or something had happened to prevent him from being there on that day. I took the road to the other poor homeless man who was normally given the money but he laid there alone. The next day I arrived early and waited for a long time but still no sign of the strange man. I gave up on the third day!
I decided to confront the absurdity of just helping the poor on a daily basis. It was not life changing, merely an instant painkiller that could have a negative effect on their lives if something should happen to me and I wasn’t there for them. It would be a return to their earlier days of suffering. If I didn't exist they could perish. I swallowed the feeling of ridiculing myself and proceeded to make plans. I decided that to give out large amounts of money straight away may be alarming and problematical to the homeless who were used to so little. Changing someone's life permanently needed close observation and to be largely controlled. It was at this point I considered the idea of joining the community of people I was trying to help. Becoming one of them or at least to see through their eyes was my aim. The experiment of the strange man who used to take the money from me and give it to someone else was inspiring, even though I was not totally sure of his intention.
Living like a homeless person on the streets is dangerous, but because I had previously observed the homeless I could build a picture of their lifestyle and the nature of its dangers. I prepared myself for the first day of this new experiment. Laying in the street served a duel purpose. I could experience the life of the homeless while watching the world from the other side and observe the passing audience in another way. It was like a sad, silent play; a rare emotionless interaction. This was a brand new feeling. Persisting in this experiment I decided to go without money or tools to defend myself. The feeling of danger was amazing, Gradually I became isolated from my previous life. I informed my family that I was on a business trip abroad and got myself totally free for my game. Sleeping on the pavement was an unbearable idea but eventually, the fatigue wins, regardless of circumstance.
I was able to penetrate the society of the streets and gradually I began to help the homeless sample I selected. I showed them how to get by on a small amount of money and gain the greatest benefit. It started with basic requirements like food and moved on to the idea of shelter away from the street. Then came the idea of a job. After months and years, I would have liked to have seen radical transformations in the lives of the street dwellers. I had hoped they could gradually move along the social scale with no constraints on their way to their new destination and finally help those who had been left behind. This was a one sided idea with no guarantee of success because not everyone who left Plato's Cave would return to show the people who were still there the new world. There had to be another way.
I thought of making our play audience participate and they became an active part of creating the events instead of just watching with superficial interaction on the rare occasions they helped the poor. Picking another sample of those people was easy and watching them was easier. I needed to know about their lives and the nature of their motivations to help others. At some point in their lives, I would intervene with direct help. After this, I watched their treatment of the poor and saw how positive that direct help was.
I used to watch the previous homeless whose world had been lifted to a new comfortable life. When they came across a beggar on the street they looked away. It was as if they were avoiding an old reflection in the mirror that reminded them of a time when that was their life. They somehow had been comfortably satisfied with their previous life, even with all the struggles, and they wouldn't come out until someone came and pulled them away - like a wisdom tooth. All the time I saw those who took to the street and those who got away from it. It was up and down; I never knew if it was by choice or fate - until the day I saw you!
So many people used to pass by me, very few put a hand in their pocket to give me something - either with a smile or begrudgingly. Some people looked at me with sadness and pity - and others passed by in a gaze, taken away by the world - like you sir.
I knew the time would come when that would change. Maybe you needed help like any one of us does at some time need a hand to reach out and pull him up. With you, that moment came when your eyes could see nothing but the sky, you had no voice to call out - just your hand reaching out helplessly. There had to be a hand to reach you, hold you and take you to safety. There were no hands - but my hands”.
The End.