plan out an imaginary interview with beggar. Don't let the beggar know that you are interviewing him. Treat him with respect, not with pity
Answers
Answered by
3
Mike Newman was a figure to evoke pity. He sat on a pallet in the Underground station through which I pass daily on my way to work, wrapped in a blanket or duvet against the cold, inhaling dust and grime, gazing at the grubby tiles and the litter on the floor, watching people's passing feet. He was bearded, long-haired, shaggy. Yet he always behaved with a certain dignity which made me curious to know his history.
When I asked if he would tell me his story, he thought about it for a couple of days, and then agreed. He has not given me his real name, though it is, he says, the name by which he is generally known. Certain questions he refused to answer. When I asked if he had any savings, he smiled wryly, looked sidelong at me and said: 'The answer to that would have to be no, wouldn't it?' At times I wondered if he was inventing; yet a chance remark later on would nearly always bear out the truth of what he had said earlier. On the whole, allowing for some unavoidable gaps in the narrative - he has, he admits, had a chequered life - I believed what he told me, and he dispelled a lot of preconceptions about beggars.
Mike Newman is 38 (he says), a slim, fine-featured Irishman with olive-green eyes and a stunning smile. For the past 10 months he has begged; for the past six weeks he has sold the Big Issue, the magazine for the homeless that now sells some 100,000 copies a week in six British cities. Selling it has given him a bit more self-respect, but what made him beg in the first place?
He reflects. 'If I was being honest, no, because I could probably do a lot better. Or could I? Let me think.' He grins and shifts and looks at me sidelong. Charm is part of his stock-in- trade, and Mike Newman has plenty.
'It's a sort of catch-22, because after my wife died I couldn't work because I was looking after my son by myself. I was determined to look after him very well, in case they tried to take him away from me. That left a break of four or five years in my life during which I hadn't had a job and after that it was very hard to get started again.
Born in Belfast, the older of two children, into a stable and united family, he still goes back a couple of times a year to visit his father (his mother died of a heart attack eight years ago) and his younger sister. They all get on well. Do they know what he does? 'They know I work in London, but I don't go into any great detail.'
He was baptised, but no longer believes in God. He was taught by (he says the words with deep irony) Christian brothers. Although he was clever enough to avoid most of the beatings and get several O-levels and three A- levels, he hated school. 'I was too frightened to do anything wrong. But they were brutal . . . looking back now, they must have got some sort of sadistic pleasure out of it and if as a grown-up, I see them, my skin still crawls. But it was all right for them, because they're men of the cloth.' It is the only time he speaks with real bitterness. Otherwise, he is remarkably free of self-pity.
'In spite of them, Belfast was a lovely place to grow up in. I had a secure childhood - whatever that is. By the time school was coming to an end I fancied being a sales rep, probably because I was articulate and hated the idea of having to work in an office all day. I wanted to be my own boss. So that's how I started; and you name it, I've sold it.
'I left Belfast when the war heated up, when I was 19, in 1972; came to London and trained as a nurse. First I got my RMN (registered mental nurse) and then SRN (state registered nurse), but as soon as I qualified I left, because by then I wanted to do computer programming. For several years Mike and his wife lived a perfectly settled domestic and working life.
'We had one child, a boy, who's now living in Northern Ireland with my sister. He'd have been there anyway, irrespective of my, um, social standing, because the schools over there are much better.'
Mike could pass (and later, in a City restaurant over lunch, did pass) for a salaried office worker. Nowadays he is beardless and looks clean and well-dressed in a navy blazer and grey trousers. 'Lots of people comment on how much smarter I look,' he says. His brown brogues have a hole in them, but I didn't notice until he pointed out that it let the rain in.
He is not ashamed of what he does, nor does he attempt to deny it. 'I wouldn't imagine calling it anything else but begging. Any job is easier than what I do, standing there for 12 hours a day.' What does he think about? 'When I'm standing there I'm not really there. My mind's somewhere else. I just let it roam.' Does the time pass slowly? 'It's just like any other job . . . some days it goes quickly, some days slowly. The colder it is, the slower time goes.'
When I asked if he would tell me his story, he thought about it for a couple of days, and then agreed. He has not given me his real name, though it is, he says, the name by which he is generally known. Certain questions he refused to answer. When I asked if he had any savings, he smiled wryly, looked sidelong at me and said: 'The answer to that would have to be no, wouldn't it?' At times I wondered if he was inventing; yet a chance remark later on would nearly always bear out the truth of what he had said earlier. On the whole, allowing for some unavoidable gaps in the narrative - he has, he admits, had a chequered life - I believed what he told me, and he dispelled a lot of preconceptions about beggars.
Mike Newman is 38 (he says), a slim, fine-featured Irishman with olive-green eyes and a stunning smile. For the past 10 months he has begged; for the past six weeks he has sold the Big Issue, the magazine for the homeless that now sells some 100,000 copies a week in six British cities. Selling it has given him a bit more self-respect, but what made him beg in the first place?
He reflects. 'If I was being honest, no, because I could probably do a lot better. Or could I? Let me think.' He grins and shifts and looks at me sidelong. Charm is part of his stock-in- trade, and Mike Newman has plenty.
'It's a sort of catch-22, because after my wife died I couldn't work because I was looking after my son by myself. I was determined to look after him very well, in case they tried to take him away from me. That left a break of four or five years in my life during which I hadn't had a job and after that it was very hard to get started again.
Born in Belfast, the older of two children, into a stable and united family, he still goes back a couple of times a year to visit his father (his mother died of a heart attack eight years ago) and his younger sister. They all get on well. Do they know what he does? 'They know I work in London, but I don't go into any great detail.'
He was baptised, but no longer believes in God. He was taught by (he says the words with deep irony) Christian brothers. Although he was clever enough to avoid most of the beatings and get several O-levels and three A- levels, he hated school. 'I was too frightened to do anything wrong. But they were brutal . . . looking back now, they must have got some sort of sadistic pleasure out of it and if as a grown-up, I see them, my skin still crawls. But it was all right for them, because they're men of the cloth.' It is the only time he speaks with real bitterness. Otherwise, he is remarkably free of self-pity.
'In spite of them, Belfast was a lovely place to grow up in. I had a secure childhood - whatever that is. By the time school was coming to an end I fancied being a sales rep, probably because I was articulate and hated the idea of having to work in an office all day. I wanted to be my own boss. So that's how I started; and you name it, I've sold it.
'I left Belfast when the war heated up, when I was 19, in 1972; came to London and trained as a nurse. First I got my RMN (registered mental nurse) and then SRN (state registered nurse), but as soon as I qualified I left, because by then I wanted to do computer programming. For several years Mike and his wife lived a perfectly settled domestic and working life.
'We had one child, a boy, who's now living in Northern Ireland with my sister. He'd have been there anyway, irrespective of my, um, social standing, because the schools over there are much better.'
Mike could pass (and later, in a City restaurant over lunch, did pass) for a salaried office worker. Nowadays he is beardless and looks clean and well-dressed in a navy blazer and grey trousers. 'Lots of people comment on how much smarter I look,' he says. His brown brogues have a hole in them, but I didn't notice until he pointed out that it let the rain in.
He is not ashamed of what he does, nor does he attempt to deny it. 'I wouldn't imagine calling it anything else but begging. Any job is easier than what I do, standing there for 12 hours a day.' What does he think about? 'When I'm standing there I'm not really there. My mind's somewhere else. I just let it roam.' Does the time pass slowly? 'It's just like any other job . . . some days it goes quickly, some days slowly. The colder it is, the slower time goes.'
Answered by
1
Festivities of Eid are on full swing these days. Besides the sacrificial animals, the thing that is quite abundant in every street of metropolises of the country is the beggars. Yes my friends, 'beggars'. You can find them everywhere whether it is a mosque, a hospital, shopping mall or whatever. Nowadays, beggars are more than happy as Eid is the occasion to earn more and more and their proliferation is on the rise.
Now let me introduce you to a person of a business with high profit and less effort; he talks about some secrets of begging.
ME How are you these days?
Beggar I am more than happy as you can see it's Eid time, and a time to enjoy the fruit of my flourishing business.
ME Mr Beggar, what motivated you to take this business?
Beggar In fact, I was so indolent and obstinate since my childhood, I always tried to find out ways to take less stress and earn more. Honour and self-respect are the words not found in my dictionary. Any person with such qualities can be best fitted for this work.
Me Don't you think that professional beggars are depriving real needy beggars from their right?
Beggar (sneer) Oh' come on! Do you think the needy people with self-respect will stand on the road sides and ask for alms? Certainly not, they beg differently with the lack of qualities of professional beggars.
Me How many types of beggars are there?
Beggar Look! Generally, there are three types of beggars professional, innate and needy. Anybody can be a professional beggar; many seasonal beggars also come under this category. Second type is of those who inherited this art from their forefathers. And the last type has no esteem in our begging world, such an artless people.
Me Can you tell us the true mantra of snatching alms, as you people mostly do?
Beggar (grins)... This is something which needs more and more practice, it's a secret but I am telling you. Ok! First aim your target, don't let it go out of your sight, keep pulling the corner of the target's shirt or keep poking your finger in his back, repeat continuously the crammed sentences, give deaf ear to any excuse by the target. Hardly after 10 minutes the target will surrender.
Me But usually, so many beggars beg at the same spot; how every one gets its share?
Beggar One thing that you people don't know is; we are very organised people, we work together on 'opportunity for all' basis. To avoid any squabble among the community, the areas are divided and sold on minimal rates. No other beggar can beg in my occupied zone, nor do I.
Me But the Government has imposed a ban on professional beggars. How do you gear up with this situation?
Beggar (chuckles) O' dear! Do you really believe in such things? Well! There are solutions for every thing; in this case we have to give up a small amount from our daily earnings and that's it.
Me How do you gain sympathies of people to pay you without any second thought?
Beggar (laughter) It's too easy, we can easily manage it by twisting our hands, legs or mouth to give a look of some handicapped person but the most successful one is to apply some turmeric paste mixed in oil on any part of the body to give it a burnt look.
Me Well! Thank you for sharing such an essence of your endeavours.
Beggar (curiously) Wait a minute! Do you mean it's time to go now?
Me Yes, I mean so. Why are you asking?
Beggar takes out his alms bowl and shouts, “Allah kay naam pay day day baba” (give alms in the name of Allah).
Hope it helps you.....
Now let me introduce you to a person of a business with high profit and less effort; he talks about some secrets of begging.
ME How are you these days?
Beggar I am more than happy as you can see it's Eid time, and a time to enjoy the fruit of my flourishing business.
ME Mr Beggar, what motivated you to take this business?
Beggar In fact, I was so indolent and obstinate since my childhood, I always tried to find out ways to take less stress and earn more. Honour and self-respect are the words not found in my dictionary. Any person with such qualities can be best fitted for this work.
Me Don't you think that professional beggars are depriving real needy beggars from their right?
Beggar (sneer) Oh' come on! Do you think the needy people with self-respect will stand on the road sides and ask for alms? Certainly not, they beg differently with the lack of qualities of professional beggars.
Me How many types of beggars are there?
Beggar Look! Generally, there are three types of beggars professional, innate and needy. Anybody can be a professional beggar; many seasonal beggars also come under this category. Second type is of those who inherited this art from their forefathers. And the last type has no esteem in our begging world, such an artless people.
Me Can you tell us the true mantra of snatching alms, as you people mostly do?
Beggar (grins)... This is something which needs more and more practice, it's a secret but I am telling you. Ok! First aim your target, don't let it go out of your sight, keep pulling the corner of the target's shirt or keep poking your finger in his back, repeat continuously the crammed sentences, give deaf ear to any excuse by the target. Hardly after 10 minutes the target will surrender.
Me But usually, so many beggars beg at the same spot; how every one gets its share?
Beggar One thing that you people don't know is; we are very organised people, we work together on 'opportunity for all' basis. To avoid any squabble among the community, the areas are divided and sold on minimal rates. No other beggar can beg in my occupied zone, nor do I.
Me But the Government has imposed a ban on professional beggars. How do you gear up with this situation?
Beggar (chuckles) O' dear! Do you really believe in such things? Well! There are solutions for every thing; in this case we have to give up a small amount from our daily earnings and that's it.
Me How do you gain sympathies of people to pay you without any second thought?
Beggar (laughter) It's too easy, we can easily manage it by twisting our hands, legs or mouth to give a look of some handicapped person but the most successful one is to apply some turmeric paste mixed in oil on any part of the body to give it a burnt look.
Me Well! Thank you for sharing such an essence of your endeavours.
Beggar (curiously) Wait a minute! Do you mean it's time to go now?
Me Yes, I mean so. Why are you asking?
Beggar takes out his alms bowl and shouts, “Allah kay naam pay day day baba” (give alms in the name of Allah).
Hope it helps you.....
Similar questions