Stephen King’s book ‘Thinner’ shook me up like no other book of his because of the gypsies. Gypsies, clowns and roadside beggars are the top three things in the world which scare me.

I’ll keep this short because my hand’s aching like a mean sumbitch.

A beggar came to me today whilst I was standing outside a shop, minding my own business and drinking a coke from the last twenty five rupees that I had in my pocket.

“Alms for the poor!” he said to me, the beggar did. His feet were crooked and he was having a hard time walking. I could see that.

“I’m sorry chacha, but I am broke right now. I cant give you anything even if I wanted to.”

“May God strike his wrath upon you and keep you poor till the end of your days!” he pointed at me and cursed.

It unnerved me, because superstitiously enough, I believe that the poor, just like the gypsies, have a way of getting their blessings and curses fulfilled. And this dude had cursed me to eternal poverty.

I consulted with a cleric on the way home and he said, “It was uncalled for, what he did. According to Islamic laws, if someone curses another person unnecessarily then the curse backfires on the curser.”

It calmed me somewhat, knowing that I literally had nothing in my pockets back then when he had asked me for alms. I was innocent and true in making my statement. I even called him ‘chachca’ which is a term of endearment. But that’s the post-modern beggar for you; accepting credit cards and doling out derogatory hoodoo voodoos to those who deny him his rightfully begged penny.

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