Thin line between the genuine and fake

A tall impeccably dressed man carrying a decent briefcase passed by the garment shop owned by my friend’s son Girish. The stranger paused awhile, gave Girish a once-over and moved on.

Girish was left wondering about the man’s intentions. Seconds later, the man returned and behaved in the same manner. Then, though he knew he was being watched, he did it a third time. Only now he went over to the shop’s counter and stood before Girish.

All this time, Girish felt the stranger wanted to say something, but was hesitant. Girish asked him the reason for pacing back and forth in front of his shop. With considerable reticence, the man replied: “Sir, I am a trader from Bhiwani. I came here to buy merchandise from this wholesale garments market. But somebody pinched my purse, leaving me penniless. Let alone buying, I can’t even go back home.

“Can you lend me Rs170 for the fare? I promise I will return the money on my next visit.”

Girish studied the stranger’s face, felt he was being honest and without a second thought handed him Rs200. The man bowed to him in gratitude. A noble soul, Girish was happy that he had done a good deed and got busy with his business for the day.

Over dinner at home, he casually mentioned the incident, adding that he was deeply touched by the plight of the trader from Bhiwani. “The man was really in trouble. I would have given him more if he had asked,” he told his parents.

Girish’s father broke into laughter. “Son, you have been duped by a cheat. Mercifully, it was a small amount. But be careful in future. Don’t get swayed by emotions like this. You must learn to distinguish a good man from a bad person,” he mildly chided his son.

Big debate

The small incident triggered a big debate. Girish’s mother rushed to her son’s defence saying he must have helped a person in genuine need. “Why this hullabaloo? In fact, you should praise him for his generosity,” she told her husband.

The next day, while returning to his shop after lunch, Girish was awestruck to see the man from Bhiwani at another establishment in the big market. With his USPs intact — the impeccable attire and the glittering briefcase — he was asking for Rs170!

“How right my father was!” Girish thought to himself as he drove to the parking lot. Back home that evening, he confessed his folly to his dad. And as his mother watched quietly, he received a pat on the back.

I was reminded of this incident by another in which a young woman genuinely in trouble was denied help by a shopkeeper, but was rescued by a passerby, whom I happen to know.

She found that her cellphone battery had run out completely, and she had to make an urgent call to her children at home. To make matters worse, she did not have any money. The woman requested a cellphone shop owner to let her make a call, but he curtly refused.

The woman was almost in tears. Her plight moved the passerby, a young man called Manish. The good Samaritan that he is, he immediately offered his cellphone to her.

After making the call to her children, she was greatly relieved. She profusely thanked the kind-hearted Manish and moved on.

The two incidents provided a study in human behaviour.

The man claimed to be a trader from Bhiwani which probably he was not. But he was certainly a cheat exploiting kind-hearted people.

Then there was the woman with a genuine need that did not appeal to an insensitive shopkeeper.

Girish and Manish, who narrated their experiences to me, happen to be my close friends’ sons. Their dilemma; they wanted to be good to the needy, but were unsure whether the person being genuine or fake.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.