The Laughing Man

The man strolled into the street with a careless abandon. He was oblivious to the world that didn't care about him. He walked over and sat opposite our shop, across the street. He must have been in his mid-fifties, we think. He wore a dishevelled look along with his patched pyjamas and kurta. His unkempt hair and long beard only added to his scary appearance. None of the passersby gave him a second glance. But we couldn't help noticing him. We had opened our shop just a few minutes back and were waiting for our first customer. The street had its share of daily commuters since it connected to the main road. Most of these commuters were also our customers who stopped by for something or the other and kept our meagre income flowing.

As our mind was preoccupied with thoughts about the day ahead, the man suddenly started laughing. It was not a loud guffaw, but still loud enough to be heard across the street. A few heads turned, searching for the source of the laughter. Once they saw the man, they ignored him, taking him to be a lunatic, we presume. The man continued to laugh. Soon one good samaritan opened an instant bank account for the man by flinging a coin in front of him. Pretty soon other passersby followed suit. People wanted salvation in life and sincerely believed that the coin they spared the man would add to their good karma. We smirked at our own cynicism and continued watching, amused by what was happening in front of us.

By mid-day, quite a pile of coins had accumulated in front of the man. But he was oblivious to it as he continued laughing. Sometimes he just chuckled. And then he would let out a loud guffaw. At times, he even seemed to be crying, we are not sure. But never once did he touch the coins. A kind lady came over and placed a packet of leftover food in front of him. He picked up the packet and examined it as if he were studying an otherworldly object. Then he began to eat, chomping noisily. It was the first time since morning that he did not laugh. After eating the food he laid down on the pavement to sleep. The afternoon sun was beating down on him but he didn't seem to care. We felt sorry for him.

The rest of the afternoon went by silently. We've had very few customers so far; there have been worse days before. We contemplated keeping the shop open for longer but decided to wind up for the day anyway. We would continue to worry about the dwindling business the next day. As we started to close up, our thoughts shifted to the man. Though we could not place a finger on it, we were worried about him. Would he be alright if we just left him there? Convincing ourselves that he would be fine, we left for home, leaving him on the pavement.

The next morning, when we returned to the shop, he was still there. But all his money was gone! Who would steal from him? Maybe a bigger beggar. The man sat quietly, looking at the place where the money had been. We thought he was going to cry. Instead, he began to laugh. No surprises there. Only this time, he was louder.

As the laughing continued, the passersby started throwing irritated glances at the man. None of them spared a coin for him now. The irritation caused by his laughter superseded their desire for good karma. We were amused by the behaviour of these people. They were just passing by and yet couldn't tolerate the man while we sat in front of him all day long and only felt pity for him. We walked over to him and, interrupting his laughter, offered him a couple of bananas. He grabbed them and ate it in a single breath. With his hunger temporarily satiated, he continued to laugh while we returned to the shop to attend to business.

Hardly an hour had gone by when a police jeep drove into the street and stopped in front of the shop. A couple of policemen got out. A middle-aged man from one of the houses nearby came running and pointed out the man to them. They went over to the man, who was still laughing and asked him to get up. But the man did not care. This irked the policemen. Losing patience, a policeman struck the man hard on the legs with his truncheon. The man howled in pain and clutched his leg. The policeman, satisfied by the result of his shameful action, smirked at the man's agony. But the satisfaction was short-lived. Soon to his dismay, the howling quickly turned to laughter as the man continued to clutch his legs. Worried that the policemen may strike the man more severely this time, we ran over to them and told them that the man was just a crazy beggar who meant no harm to anyone. The resident cast a glaring look at us and argued that it was a residential area and the man could pose a threat to them. But all the man did was laugh. We never knew you could kill someone by laughing. The policemen couldn't care less. They didn't think all this was worth their time. Sensing their thoughts, in order to urge them to haul the man away, the resident offered the policemen some money. They immediately found their much-needed encouragement. They dragged the man away, much against our pleadings to leave him alone. We were helpless while the resident went back to his house, having done his deed.

The rest of the day went by restlessly and in agony, as we worried about the fate of the man. Would the policemen hurt him? We hoped not. For reasons unknown, we had developed a soft corner for the man. He looked like he had once been a decent family man. Even now, he never really begged for food or money. He only sat at his place and laughed. We knew in our heart that he meant no one any harm. We wonder, what circumstances in life could change somebody into someone else? With this question, a lump formed in the throat as we thought about our life. We could hardly make ends meet. Every day brought a new struggle with no relief in sight. All the personal miseries almost always culminated into harsh words, fights and the urge to commit suicide. Nobody wanted us here. Nobody cared. 

We contemplated going to the police station to plead with the inspector into letting the man go. But what could we really do? Poor people without money hardly mattered to anyone in this big world. Many times in the past, these policemen have come to our shop and threatened us with dire consequences if we didn't vacate the place. They called us thieves who were staking out the area for our next theft. At the end of every such harassment episode, we always ended up parting with most of our hard-earned money to make the policemen go away, only for them to come back another day. When our own days went by in this manner, how could we convince the inspector into letting the man go? In fact, it is possible that the inspector may simply claim the man to be our accomplice for a theft we were planning to commit. We didn't want to end up in a lock-up. At the same time, we were worried about the man. How sad that the poor could not even afford to worry about one another.

The night passed with restless thoughts. The next morning we were still preoccupied with the thoughts as we made our way to the shop. We wondered if we would see the man again. Our question was soon answered when we saw him sprawled on the pavement at the same spot from where the policemen had picked him up yesterday. The blood on his lips had dried up. The black eye told tales of the 'hospitality' to which he had been subjected by the policemen. We could only conclude that, with no valid reason to hold him and not wanting to take the responsibility of finding him a place, the policemen had simply dumped him back and washed their hands off.

The man was lying in the middle of the pavement and the day was getting hotter. We moved him to the side, into the shade, but not without attracting disdainful looks from people walking by. It was clear that the man was not wanted here, and people didn't appreciate him being shown any pity. We sat in the shop, looking at the man, waiting a long time for him to wake up. He finally stirred awake and winced in pain. He sat up slowly and looked around as if to get his bearings. Before we could offer him water, he reached over to the dirty bottle near him and took a swig of the water. Once done, he sat quietly for a few more minutes before starting to laugh. We could not believe it. He could laugh even after taking a severe beating. We could not take it anymore. He could get hurt again. We ran over to him and told him to stop. He looked irritated as if he were stopped midway during his musical concert. This was the first time we looked at each other closely. 

We told him, "Why do you laugh and attract attention to yourself? People don't want you here and will only hurt you if you do that again. So stay quiet."

The man replied, "Nobody cared when I cried. I cried so much and none of them stopped to ask, or asked to stop. So why do they hurt me now when I laugh? Are they irritated with me because they think I am happy while they are not?".

Saying this the man continued to laugh. It was louder than before. Even as we stood transfixed at what was happening, some people who could take it no longer gathered together and came towards us, with the clear intention of beating us to a pulp, we sensed. In those moments, as the man's words swirled in the mind and the ways of the world became clear, we started to laugh even louder.