The lady behind the sink…

It was around 3:30 in the afternoon.

I was in my college canteen, enjoying a cup of tea and some snacks. The weather was perfect—the kind that makes you want to just sit back and soak it all in. Cool winds were blowing, people were chatting, laughing, relaxing. Retro songs were playing in the background, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. Easy.

And then I noticed her.

There was this lady in a corner of the canteen, washing dishes. Not in a clean sink with flowing water, but in three layers of visibly dirty water. Same water, same pile of dishes—over and over again.

I sat there for an hour. In that time, she must’ve washed dishes at least eight times. Quietly, methodically, almost like her body was on autopilot.

At first, I thought about hygiene. But soon, that didn’t matter as much.
What struck me more was her. Her reality. Her presence. The way she kept going—while the rest of us laughed, scrolled through our phones, enjoyed the wind, and sipped hot tea.

That’s when it hit me.

I’m privileged.

I don’t mean rich. But I’m comfortable. I have time to sit and enjoy the weather. I have songs that make me feel good. I have snacks I didn’t have to earn through physical exhaustion. And in that moment, sitting at that table, I felt… guilty. Like the world was quietly reminding me of the inequality we walk past every day.

I thought to myself, I should do something. I have to do something. And then, just as I was wrapped in that reflective little bubble, a girl came up to me.
Maybe 10 years old. Torn clothes, dusty hands. She looked up at me and quietly asked for money.
And I—without even thinking—said, “No.”
No hesitation. No second thought. Just a flat denial.

She didn’t even insist. Didn’t look at me with pleading eyes. Just nodded and walked away, like she’d heard “no” so many times it no longer stung.
That moment has stayed with me more than I expected.
Because it’s so easy to reflect. So easy to feel sad, or angry at the world, or inspired to make a change. But when the real moment comes to do something—even something small—most of us fall back into habit.

I did.

And I know I’m not alone.

Many of us have had these moments. We see someone struggling, and for a few seconds, we feel something deep. Something real. But then the discomfort fades, and we slip back into our routines. Maybe it’s self-preservation. Maybe it’s guilt. Or maybe it’s just the overwhelming feeling that we can’t change much anyway.

I’ve heard people say, “Giving a coin won’t fix poverty,” or “What if it encourages begging?” Others say, “I feel bad, but I don’t know what to do.” And all of those feelings are valid. These situations are complicated. We can’t always give, and we can’t save everyone. But maybe, sometimes, the smallest kindness can matter more than we think.

I don’t have a solution. I’m not trying to be wise. I just think that noticing the gap between what we feel and how we act is the first step. I want to believe I’ll do better next time. That maybe, next time, I’ll pause before saying no.

And maybe, just maybe, that will be the start of something real…

~Raghini Biswakarma~

Writer’s Introduction : My name is Raghini Biswakarma, an Economics Honours student at Jadavpur University. Writing has always been my way of understanding the world, capturing small truths and big emotions. I hope my words help others feel seen, understood, and inspired in their own journeys.

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