Beg

Familiar with the drill, getting into the trains is fairly mechanical. One who is used to the process can do it brain dead: get in the procession, fidget around as the line slowly nears the ticket window, pay the fare, get your ticket. Go to the turnstiles and platforms and trains and you’re off, off to wherever. It’s really routine. One evening though, on the way home from work, there was a most unusual sight on the MRT. It’s actually very common along the streets of the metro, but on the train concourse, it was something I’ve never seen before.

There were beggars.

Mother and daughter were asking for alms from the people in the ticket lines. To elicit more pity (and more cash?) the younger of the two was holding out a medical certificate, which stated, generally, that the elderly woman she was assisting beside her was sick. The quiet, frail mother kept looking down to the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The daughter, built for tough times and strong like a bull, held and supported her sick mother in one arm and carried a bag and the certificate in another. She looked at the people in line with eyes that pleaded, and repeatedly said in a low, beseeching voice, “palimos po, pang-gamot lang po ng nanay ko…”

It was a sad sight to see. The situation made me think of how they were similar they could be to the people they were begging from. Then, maybe, just maybe. We may not be dressed in shabby clothes or have deeply-lined faces that draw stories of despair, but we all beg. People buying their tickets along with me, people in the train, on the streets, in their houses, everyone asks for something they don’t have. Everyday.

“Please give me money, I need it so very badly.”
“Please let them be ok.”
“Please let me get what I need, what I want”
“I’m desperate for attention, please look at me.”
“Please love me.”

It’s very human to desire, and when our desires are not at all met, it’s natural to find ways to augment our deficiencies – to request, to implore, to beg. We pray, we work, we find thousands of ways to move mountains. And despite our seeming nonchalance and indifference, behind the confident veneer, we silently break down when we realize we can’t get what we want. It can tear you apart, the realization that you have to beg for something but can’t have any at all. Dignity is how you keep that to yourself, and carry it with stride, knowing that you’ll be ok despite the gaps. Then you move with gentle acceptance, live with the strong driving force that is hope.

But not everyone is lucky enough to pass through ignoring desires and needs with grace. When last resorts fail and desperation drags you in the mud, you turn to something you choose to be what don’t really want to be. I doubt that the mother and daughter in the train enjoyed what they were doing, being grim eyesores in the business district station. In a lot of ways, in our mended clothes and full stomachs, we were different. And it is certifiable.

The line was quieter than usual; people were fidgeting less than the normal. Some people gave money, but you can see that it won’t be enough. Caught in the vicious cycle of begging and then begging for more, you can predict that the tandem will be facing pretty tough times.

Getting to where you want to go isn’t always so smooth.