It happened on a weekend

It happened on a weekend:
My husband had to got to Simla for a business trip for 2 days. As it was a weekend and I was by chance not working on that particular weekend, we planned to go together. We got our Volvo tickets done from ISBT, Delhi and reached there before time (I mean 2 hours before). It was too humid to even explain and too hot to even remember. Also waiting at the Bus stand in all kind of noises and finding a place to sit was a nightmare. My husband managed to find a suitable space for me where I could sit and at times take small naps too. As I got a place to sit, he went to fetch something to eat (I mean chocolates for me). This was the time when I had to be wide awake to take care of our luggage. So, I was looking all around to safe guard the luggage.
I noticed there were beggars all around asking for money, for food, even asking for what I was about to put in my mouth. I ignored as always. I, kind of do not believe in giving money to beggars except on Saturdays (You know what I mean).
But as my habit of studying peoples' body language and mannerisms goes; I kept on looking at the people around (beggars included).
Unknowingly, I put my eyes on a beggar who was far off and was of course begging. He was a young man who did not have any legs. He was pushing his cart by his hands. Dressed in a light-yellow shirt, sleeves folded up till elbow. he was wearing a Coudruoy pant of tan colour. I started following him wherever he was going, he was begging, but there was a dignity in his buying. He would push himself on his cart, reach to people standing, pull the crease of their pants and look into their eyes. Because there were a lot of beggars, so some would give him money, someone won't.
This young beggar looked different from others. To me he didn't seem to be brought up on streets. He was different and that is why, may be, he caught my attention.
Why is he begging, where is he from. who are his family? I was busy creating different stories in my head about him which made me lose track of him. He was nowhere in my sight. I tried to look for him but could not trace him. And it took away my interesting time-pass from me. I again went back to my half-asleep-half-awake mode. But this young boy was still running in my head (without limbs).

As a sense of insecurity creeped in for my luggage I opened my tired eyes and looked around for my luggage. To my surprise, a pair of soulful eyes were looking at me. They belonged to the same man I have been talking about. His face, his features, his body language, and moreover his eyes, all did not look like they belonged to a street beggar.
Well...I pulled myself out of these chain of thoughts and searched for money pocket of my hand bag. I pulled out a 10 Rupee note and gave it to him. He took the note without even seeing at what I have given to him.
As he put his eyes on that 10 Rupee note, an instant but dignified smile brightened up his face and he looked at me smiling. As if nobody has never done that for him. I smiled back too. His smile filled me with contentment. He went away leaving behind a gaze so full of hope, dreams, unconditional love and a stress-free sight.
He gave me what I could never buy spending lacs of Rupees. A moment of peace, an experience of satisfaction, an evening of making difference in its own way.
We missed our bus somehow that evening. And my husband was almost in tears, as he wanted to take me to Simla for a long time. We came back home. He left for Simla the next day. I was alone, back home. But was not upset (for the first time for anything not working as per the plan).
What I could not have got going to any hill station, I got at that bus stand.
I can never forget those eyes. They become alive whenever I close my eyes in any moment of stress, anxiety and pressure.
Thank you young man.

Your soulful eyes brought me close to myself. Close to who I am.

I will be looking for you next time I go to that bus stand.