with ambivalence towards one and all

to return or to stay another year? to write or to earn (two different things, u know)? to conserve or to consume? to drive or to walk? complete and wholehearted ambivalence.

not sure about you, but my life has been full of contradictions. feel one thing, want one thing but do something else. or, as i like to tell myself, life happens. but i end up being two things simultaneously, inside and out or inside out. or thinking two opposite things. feeling this way and that.

like the other day. someone walks up to the closed car window and taps. i ignore -- then steal a glance. a kid. turning cartwheels. i turn away then look again ... and stare. she's really good. in the back of my mind i remember a report. this is their life. their earnings are what you deign to surrender. (your pride, your principles or your dineros.) i'm confused. will she go hungry because i ignored? so i reach in. the lights change and we pull away.

darn! regret and relief. at once. next time, i tell myself. next time i'll give that child. but the next time is an able man with a young child. a girl. geez. will she get any or will he get his daaru? unsure and yet willing. after all i'd promised myself, next time. i reach in again and yet again the light saves me. or dooms me... to my ambivalence.

5pm bombay airport departure gate. a little boy selling magazines. no thanks, i don't want any. i glance at them anyway. no, nothing i want. "please, sister -- i need money for school." he's fibbing. i walk away. but something pulls me back. ambivalence? which school? "vakola government school" he answers with surprise. i shove a 20 rupee note into his hand and grab an inconsequential glossy. study well. "yes sister." will he, wont he?

richmond road, 12:30pm the next day. a girl turning cartwheels. a-ha. i'm ready with my heavy fiver. she taps, i roll the glass down a tad. slip the fiver in. she beams and turns to join her brother. will she eat? was i right? did i perpetuate a hopeless situation? shouldn't she be in school? everyday the same questions, every signal offers the same dilemmas.

my editor told me he was going to teach a class in the singapore school of journalism about the morality of indulging beggars. analyzing these doubts. and how to report on it. i think i need that class.

not for reporting, just for sleeping easy. until then, my ambivalence has free hand as it dances in front of me mocking my every decision.