"You are not permitted entrance!"
Skinny and with snot rolling down his nose, a boy of about six years stood outside the entrance of the Inn.
He was blocking our group, defiant, with his arms crossed over his chest.
I could easily push him aside and be done with him. But under Nirvana's guise, I don't think I was supposed to do such an unlawful act.
Behind the boy, the Inn was empty. Onlookers from outside passed by and giggled. The young lad sniffed, causing disdain and pity to clash within me.
He had a poor choice of clothing. It almost resembled a rag, and perhaps those were the only pieces he was able to scrap by and put on to cover his nakedness.
I plead no judgment. Instead, I wanted to do something about it.
Anyone would have expected me to hand him a coin. Usually, I would have done the same. A bag of gold and silver coins was hidden in my secret purse.
