The Blind Man

Place: Andheri Railway Station - Footover bridge.
Time: 8:45 in the evening.

I am weaving my way through the crowd.
My destination - Platform Number 1.

I am in a hurry. I need to catch the next local train. If I miss that one, I will have to wait for FIVE WHOLE MINUTES for the next one. Being a true Mumbaikar, I don't mind if I die in my hurry, but missing a train is simply unacceptable.

Suddenly I feel a gentle touch. Someone is holding my forearm. Its very momentary really. As I slow down and turn to look at who it is, the hand has already left mine. I look at the owner of that hand. He is going in the opposite direction, he has already moved past me. The man moves slowly, carefully. People are passing by him, all in a rush, just like me. The man is trying to avoid being pushed and jostled.

As I look back at him, I notice it for the first time. He is holding the red and white stick in front of him.

It is obvious that he cannot see.
He had been right in front of me; had he not held my hand, I would probably have collided into his side.

But in my rush I did not see.

I wonder, between the two of us, who is Blind?