Amidst the crowds and the hustle and bustle of the town lies an isolated place with only a playground. Tea shops are available for refreshment. A couple of juice shops also quench the thirst of tiring schoolchildren. They leave the grounds in the evening.

I was there one evening for a work-related task. A group of children ran from the playground to the welcoming shops for refreshments. I noticed something unusual. One juice shop was overcrowded, and the owner struggled to fulfill the orders promptly. Another juice shop was empty, and the owner looked sadly at the first shop. It looked like he was wondering why no one had visited his shop.

After observing from a distance, I visited the second shop to boost the owner’s morale. I went to the shop and greeted the owner. He was startled at first, then adjusted to take my order. I was his first customer after a while!

While taking the order, I noticed something unusual. The owner’s right-hand fingers were missing; only the palm was there. It was a disturbing scene. I understood why the schoolchildren were not coming for juice or tea. They must be frightened.

When he saw my eyes fixed on his right hand, the person gave me a sheepish smile. He asked me if I still wanted juice from him after what I had seen. I was curious, and I replied, “Why not?” Furthermore, I inquired about the hand and asked him what had happened to it.

The empathy-filled conversation gave the person a little solace. He started his sad story. Three years before, he had a successful sugarcane shop and a happy family. One day, through negligence, he accidentally reached for the sugarcane machine while serving a customer. All his fingers were chopped off. After undergoing life-saving operations and experiencing an emotional setback, he started a juice shop to earn a living.

I asked him to prepare some tea to calm him down. His voice was trembling. The sun was about to set. He prepared two cups of tea. He used his left hand and right-hand palm. One was for me, and one was for him. The diligence and determination of the deprived person helped to mitigate the discomfort. I drank the tea with him, watching the sun setting somewhere down the distant hill. The children were still playing on the ground. Office-goers were returning home, causing traffic. The person was not sad at all. Hope was shining in his unwavering eyes. He was ready to welcome a new dawn of life. He was eager for new opportunities.

I bade him goodbye and hopped on my bike. Life moved on as it should, despite tragedies and blocked roads. The shop owner was hopeful, and so was I. After the incident, I stopped by the small shop from time to time.