'Did he die of cold, hunger or he was murdered?"

 " Sir, can I have a cigarette? ", a lanky, red skinned man asked me. I was waiting for a subway with a fear of being late to my work. It will be third warning from my robotic Manager if I can not be on time for my work today. 

"I'm sorry, I don't have a cigarette", I said and moved forward. 

"Thank you. Have a nice day!', he said. I was surprised. I never expected such a courteous response from a beggar. 

I regretted for ignoring his request and even not looking on his face. I could have looked at his face and greeted him. His voice echoed throughout the day. 

That evening while returning from the work, I stopped at the same areas to see the beggar if he was still there. I wanted to see into his eyes. I wanted to see through his eyes and know the feelings of being disrespected by the people like me. Everyone passing from his never looked into his eyes and see it. They never listen the voice, but only heard. 

There were other beggars, may be not the right word to call them. They were poor for sure because they did not have money to buy food. They had no money to buy a cigarette or a cup of MacDonald coffee. But they have value as a human being. 

One man said," These  people are lazy ass. They don't want to work. They are given allowances from the government, but they spend that free money to buy drugs and liquors." 

It made me think for a while. Do all the beggars get allowances form the government? In my home country, the beggars are given any allowances from the government. They are not even polite like the beggars here in downtown Edmonton. It was said that the beggars of Pasupathi temple are rich. They are send their children in expensive private schools. 

After ten/ fifteen minutes I went into the City mall to buy a coffee from Tims. At the corner of the store, I noticed a man dodging on one of the chairs. I looked him closely and recognized him by his red hoodie. I waited him to be awake so that I can talk to him or may buy a cup of coffee. However, the man did not wake up. I sat on one of the chair and sipped coffee thinking abut the man's life. 

At the mean time, there came two security guards stretching protection gloves and stood Infront of him in a proper defensing  position.  

I stood up and went to the counter to ask a lady who was looked stressful if the gentleman did anything wrong. 

" He can not sleep here. He can die", she said. Then she looked at me like a suspicious stranger. I stepped back and went to my earlier seat. 

"Sir, I can you leave here?," one of the securities spoke. 

'Excuse me, are you awake?", another security guard added. 

The gentleman did not response. He was snoring intermittently. I can see his dreaming someone offering him a cigarette or a cup of coffee. 

One of the Guard who was taller than other grabbed him on his arm and shook him gently. After a moment, he opened his eyelid and looked at them in a state of perplexing. 

"Hurry up, collect your belongings and leave the property", said the guard who was hanging his both hands on the buckle of the belt and leaning forward.

' The man grabbed his empty Tim Horton's cup, and cigarette buts and a grocery bag. Before leaving the store, he looked at the cashier and said " thank you'. 

The two security guards followed him until he left the mall. I too exited from the another door and went close to the gentleman. This time, he didn't ask for a cigarette; instead, was picking empty cans from the thrash bins and putting in the grocery bag. 

I stood about hundred meter away and observed what he was doing. I wanted to talk to him and ask about his life story. It was cold and cloudy. He was probably in his mid fifties and I could notice wrinkles and gray hair in his withering skull. He checked every thrash bins on the both sides of the road. He was not only the person who collect empty canes or the bottles from the bins. I saw them lining up in the Bottle Depo to exchange with a few dollars and with that dollar they buy a few canes of beer. 

While he was still checking one of the bin, I approached to him and said "hello". He looked me with a surprise as if I was from the Mars. He didnt  reply the hello back. He might have thought that the 'hello' wasn't for him. he might not have heard it for years. 

I went closer to him and said 'hello' again. He looked at me with a frowning demeanor and moved forward. His gesture made me confused. I recalled his voice that morning saying 'have a nice day'. I was expecting if he would ask for a change so that I can offer him a dollar or two and start a conversation. But he didn't stop there.

The darkness of replaced by the neon lights of the city. I rode a bus and came home. I was tired. I was worried yesterday about my condition. At least I had a roof to protect my family from heat and cold. I had a job which would pay for my rent and the grocery. I had a value which the society gives value too.  I can come to my room anytime I like, and go out when I like. I had choices. 

Did the gentleman had all the choices I have? Does the society value him? Will he be frequently kicked out of the stores where he goes to find a place to dodge? Despite of all these obstacles, he is smiling and respecting people. Although people ignore his request, he responses politely. 

 I couldn't sleep immediately after I went to the bed. Empathetic memory of the gentleman pinched my soul. I felt heaviness in my head when woke up in the morning. I checked the temperature in my cell phone. It was -35 degree, feel like -45 degree. I put on the layers of clothes and packed some leftover from the last night in the plastic lunch bag and left for work. It was the same route everyday. 

When I arrived the subway station, I saw an ambulance and the police van on the other side of the road. Skyscrapers looking upwards protecting thousands of dreamers from the cold. However, beneath those skyscrapers, there was a frozen body surrounded by the police offices and first responders. 

My heart started pounding looking at the scene. As the areas was yellow taped, I couldn't go to closer. I looked from the distance. Even though I couldn't spot his face, I could see the yellow jacket, a grocery bag and the Tim Horton's cup. 

I asked what had happened to security guard who was standing out of the yellowed taped area. He cleared his throat before uttering his words " a homeless guy died". A sharp razor blade passed through my chest. I couldn't look at the scene. 

'Did he die of cold, hunger or he was murdered?"