The Money-less Vigilante

His daughter’s face floated in front of his eyes. When he’d seen her last she’d clutched his hand, her little fingers unable to curl around his big palm. She told him that she believed in him. That he was her hero and she knew he would save her, save her from the agonizing pain.

This was three days ago!

After having heard her, he’d left the hospital again to arrange for some more money to buy medicines for her. Medicines that could at least help her to withstand the excruciating pain that had been tormenting her for weeks now.

This was three days ago!

While he stood in the government medicine store’s queue, his mobile rang. He picked it up only to hear the obnoxious expletives hurled at him by his hysterical contractor. He was screeching at him for not being present at work for the past one week. If he didn’t leave for work immediately, he could return his uniform. There were several others in line wanting the job.

This was three days ago!

Yesterday, his daughter died. He had her for just four years. He imagined how she would’ve been if she’d grown up. He felt sorry for her. If she would have been a rich man’s child, like the ones standing in front of him, she would have survived.

“Hello… Can’t you hear..?” A voice startled him.

He looked up. A young woman was peeping out of the ATM door. Her little daughter, about four years old, stood with her nose pressed against the glass wall.

“Y..Yes.. Madam…?” He asked standing up, adjusting his heavy belt. He had lost significant weight over the past weeks. The woman seemed to be quite annoyed as he hadn’t heard her right away.

“Is there a limit on per day cash withdrawal?”  she asked impatiently.

“Yes madam” he nodded, adding, “but it is 40,000 Rupees.”

“Nothing happens with this much an amount!” she said rolling her eyes, dragging the kid out of the booth.

He saw them whizzing off in their chauffeur driven car.

He sank back into the tattered chair. There he was sitting in the scorching heat guarding a money machine kept in an AC room, observing people pumping paisa over and over again. People who had enough to support their leisure, yet never thankful. He sat there thinking of days where even a single additional penny would have been considered a boon by him.

The ATM however kept on buzzing with people; but the moneyless vigilante was invisible to most.

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