It was the festival of the patron saint of our parish. There were makeshift tea shops, vendors for oranges, colorful sweets, bangles, utensils, and many other things. Colorful balloons fluttered in the winds merging with the paper and leaf adornments of different hues arranged in lines on either side. Loud speakers blared songs and prayers from the church. The beats of country drums and the blaring of music bands added to the din. The cries of beggars mingled with the sounds of vendors and the merry noises of children who enjoyed themselves. The bells rang continuously and the occasional blasts of gun powder, tucked forcibly into cylindrical stones with central holes, produced unbearable sounds. The entire area was unpaved, dusty, hot, humid, hazy littered with paper, plastic bags, orange peels and food particles. In an utter pandemonium the festival melee progressed. A blind beggar lay sprawled on a torn, thick cloth with outstretched arms begging for alms.A cotton white but shabby cloth was spread in front of him. Coins were perched on it with a number of one, five and ten rupee-bills. A mischievous fellow approached the beggar, dropped a one rupee note, sat down, and masquerading to take change, he whisked off all the bills. The beggar, unaware that almost all the money he had collected till then was stolen, continued whining for alms.