intouchables_indeWe returned to the train station, wishing to get out of Patna as soon as possible.

After a while I realized that I had lost my watch, a cheap digital one. Without much else to do, I went to ask at the counter where hours before we had bought the tickets.

“This one?” said the officer, holding up my watch.

“Incredible!”

If there is one place in the world where one does not expect to recover his watch that is the train station of Patna!

I went back to where my friend was waiting, but when I was about to tell him that good things can also happen in such a city I realized something was bothering him.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“See that old beggar sitting there?” I nodded. “A guy just kick him in the head.”

I noticed the blood flowing down his temple.

“Why?”

“Must be an outcast, an untouchable. Here his life is worthless. Surely they had eye contact.”

The “loss of my watch” couldn’t be more providential, it prevented me from seeing that scene; nothing makes me feel worse that witnessing cruelty, especially when the victims are the most vulnerable:  animals, children, elders, women, nature…

Deep inside I also feel sorry for the perpetrators. I can’t imagine the unhappiness of someone capable of giving a kick in the head to an old homeless person. Blood, though invisible, runs down his temples too.

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