Ten Rupees: The Story of a Blind Eye

‘Sir, sir, there is a white man sleeping in the roadside. Shall we bring him to your house?’ I agreed, and the village boys came back with him, John.

All he had was a shirt, short pants, a hat and his sleeping mat. He came from England, where he found his family too narrow-minded, over-occupied as they were with money and their printing business. He had left them without notice, flewn to India, and given away his belongings, including his passport.

After he got spiritual relief in Pune, he started walking, bare feet, along the western coast of India and wanted to reach the southern tip of the country. He had gone from church to church where the priests gave him food, drink and shether if needed, until he arrived in the southern state of Kerala and the village where I conducted anthropological fieldwork.

We talked and I took him along on my visits to poor households where I did my research. They depended on labor of the man who, if he found employment, earned 8-10 rupees a day. It was just enough for them to buy food and perhaps some medicines. In-between the visits I offered John drink and food. He asked politely for extra salt in his food, explaining that he had been sweating a lot during his walks.

By the end of the day we had a long talk at my house. I lit a candle and poured tea. He spoke about his family and his unhappy childhood. He said: ‘I swore to myself to never mind material affairs. It is my mission to live without money. Look, here is a ten rupee note. I got it from the last priest I visited. I’ll show you what I do with it.’ He took the note and held it over my burning candle until it had mostly turned into ashes. The last piece he dropped in his cup.

It was in the days that I gave priority to science, at the cost of my emotions. So, I did not react to his demonstration and showed him the spare bedroom that I had offered already.

When on my own, I tried to digest his aversion of money being so strong that it blinded him for the agonies of poor people he had seen the whole day. Afterall, it is the task of an anthropologist to understand people. But I knew then already that the incident would chase me for the days to come.