A bundle of crumpled notes he had in his hands

A bundle of crumpled notes he had in his hands...

They came with their auto rikshaw driver friend. Clad they were in simple clothes...and long worn slippers...just another unassuming couple we brush shoulders with from shanty town...

 'We want to help' he said...out came a bunch of crumpled notes from his wife's purse...he struggled to count them...so crumpled the notes were that it took several counts to get their number correct.

'How's it that each note is so crumpled?' I queried.

'Sir I used to sell idlis on a cart...now I have a small outlet in Khadki bazaar. I do not have the capacity to take out a lump sum amount to give to those in need. So every year I buy an earthen pot and put a Rs 100 note in it every single day...at the end of the year I donate the accumulated amount to sanstha's doing good work'.

I inadvertently exclaimed that it was the birthday of one of our girls that day...in a flash another wad of crumpled notes appeared...'please buy her a dress and gifts with this money' he said.

I looked at them with bewilderment...and awe...ordinary people they were...with hearts that simply melted us...

'We'll come again after one year when I break open my new earthen pot'.

A wad of 111 crumpled Rs 100 notes lay on my table as they humbly trudged out...