23 November 2010

I was going to write this on another site that I blog on from time to time and entitle it “Random acts of kindness”, but I decided to write it here instead, mainly because there is a new twist to it that is more relevant here.

I have written several times about the kindness I have experienced from random people who don't know me and will more than likely never meet me again. I had another such experience a few days ago that struck me for no reason other than on the other site there had been extensive discussion of the hajib (the headscarf worn by some Muslim women). There was much antipathy towards it partly, I suspect, based on ignorance (mistaking it for the veil, for example).

Anyway, that's not the point. I was getting off the train, or rather readying myself to do that, when a young Muslim woman with her husband (I assume) behind her and a small child whom she was holding by the hand. And she smiled and gestured to me to go first. I declined, politely, mentioning that it would take me much longer to disembark than it would for them. They smiled, and went on their way. I was musing over this random act of kindness as I walked along the platform, so much so that I wasn't concentrating properly an very nearly fell over – but that's not relevant.

The antithesis of this event happened last night. For some reason some of the ticket barriers at the station had been closed, and as a result all passengers had to take the same route as I. It is frequently difficult for me to follow the same route as hordes of commuters. I'm not quite sure why because for the most part they kindly move around me, although I think it may be the movement of so many people that takes my attention from the job in hand, but I manage. On this occasion though, there were more people in more of a hurry. One particular individual, to whom I could refer in none-too-flattering terms, but won't (in writing at least) cut across behind me, kicking my stick from under me. Fortunately, the crowd meant that I was moving even more slowly than usual, and I didn't lose my balance. “Cheers” I called after him, but it was wasted, as he disappeared up the escalator, oblivious to having caused me any problem and, I suspect, not caring.

So there are two contrasting examples on humanity. The one whom some consider to be dressed in an 'odd' way, and the other who didn't give a toss for anyone's needs but his own. And I know which one earned my deepest respect.