I have grown up observing my parents and other relatives asking beggars for forgiveness on being unable to help them with alms. The habit got ingrained in me and I, too, do that more often than not. We don’t really owe them an apology or an excuse for not being able to help. It is simply a polite way of saying no.

The recent move to pull currency notes of five hundred and one thousand rupees out of the system has given a lot of us a valid excuse to say no. As I sat on the floor putting on my shoes after the Friday prayers, the people who collect donations of my local mosque during the prayer time walked in and sat next to where I was. The Imaam and the other office-bearers sat close-by, compiling the donations. The money was pooled together.

“Aaj zyada nahi aaya,” (It’s not much this week) said one of them with an expression somewhere in between a grin and a smirk.

The Imaam replied, “Bahut log dena chahte the, par chhutta hi nahi kisi ke paas.” (A lot of people wanted to donate, but no one has any loose change)

“Agle hafte se aayega,” (It will come from the next week) the other person replied.

The two men exchanged a smile. I couldn’t suppress one either.

As I walked out, there were three women dressed in the traditional hijab and holding children in their laps. They looked hopefully at each and every faithful walking out of the mosque with imploring eyes peering from behind the veil. While walking out of the mosque’s gates with the prayer of abundance on my lips, all I could say to those who really didn’t have abundance was “Chhuttaa nahi hai, maaf karo.” (I don’t have change. Sorry)

At least I was truthful.