"H" for "Humanity"

He was lying on the temple steps, cuddled in a corner, wrapped in a tattered blanket. No one noticed him; those who did turned away in disgust. A rotten stench of flesh emanated from him. One of his legs was wounded and needed urgent care. Flies buzzed around it. He was moaning in pain, but no one heard. She was ascending the stairs of the temple, like every day, spraying sacred water as she went. This was her daily routine, known to all; although annoyed, no one dared to speak against her. The ill man did not escape her sharp sight, and before she could speak, her grandson, who always accompanied her, assured her that such filthy people should be removed from the temple grounds. She did not reply; instead, she looked at him with her bloodshot eyes and, to everyone’s surprise, approached the wounded beggar. She took his head onto her lap and made him drink the holy water. Her grandson, startled, called for an ambulance. A life was saved.



This post is a part of BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026

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