How Much And How Different Value Of Money Is

This is my first short story (a long story I have already written), trying hard to express my feeling through my insufficient vocabulary in English literature. I hope, someday I will have enough English word to express my emotions more profoundly.

I was in 3^rd year in IT-BHU, Varanasi. Assi-Ghat used to be my best spot, for peace and serenity descends into me as my mind synchronizes to the rhythm and tranquility of Ganges. Every evening after watching, contemplating and passing some alone moments, I used to content my tongue, without bothering my stomach at PAHALWAN LASSI BHANDAR. But that evening was not the same evening.

As I paid to the shop owner and was about to put my-self on my Honda-Activa, a sudden touché, so delicate yet so demanding made me to turn my eyes. What I saw, was a woman in mid forties, cladding in torn saris, holding a semi-clad baby in her bosom. Her whitish-brown scattered hairs, deep-dark earnest eyes, pale face, were reflecting her bottomless agony but yet reflecting the every quality of motherly-love. I often witnessed many beggars as I feel Varanasi should be more a city of beggars than city of temples. But there is something in her for that I could not turn off my eyes. I took out my purse, silently forwarded 10 rs to her. A happiness, a hope and a gratefulness reflected through her eyes as a drop waved rippled in a silent, serious and monotonous river. I first time realized how much and how different value of money is.

I hardly moved some meters, riding on my activa through agitated crowd, a sudden movement; a crying sound vibrated my ear. I turned behind and saw the same woman running towards me and struggling to crowd for coming forward. Few meters had become kilometers as crowd seemed to ever-increasing population of India, concentrated here only for this moment. I could not believe on my eyes, when a sudden pulser bike, hit her, became invisible into crowd and left her wounded. People encircled her. I ran and reached her, hold her hand. She was taking deep breaths, yet tightened her blood stained hand across the baby with my purse in her second hand. I managed her to hospital with the help of my friends but again I realized how much and how different value of money is.