The Banana Seller

It was a quarter to twelve on the night of February 13th, and my friend and I were returning from work at the STU. The road was dark and deserted, and like a diseased sun the orange glow from the street lamps painted parts of the road a fading shade of orange. My friend was feeling hungry so we were hoping that we might find some shop open. But all was deserted and quiet. We crossed the foot-over bridge over the local railway line and were headed back to our place. And then we saw that man, around 50 years old, with his push cart parked on the empty roadside, selling bananas. What he was doing there, sitting there in that odd hour when no soul but that like us would be coming along, we didn't know. But even though it seemed too much like the horror movies, we were only too glad to find him there.
We approached the cart and looked at the bananas. They were all very ripe and just touching them made them fall from their stems. We bought some for ourselves and paid him fourty bucks. I remember as he took the money from me he said, "OK, sir", and I'd been surprised by his politeness and sophistication.
Later, as we moved on, we both realized why he was there. And it came as such a surprise of human hope and endurance that my heart bowed down for him in admiration and awe and anger.
His cart, even at a quarter to 12, was almost full. It seemed that he hadn't been able to sell much during the day. And all the bananas were over ripe, the kind you wouldn't buy unless you were to have them immediately, and the type, I remember, many I know would have rejected. By next evening they would have gone bad.
So he was standing there on that deserted street, waiting for someone who might buy those bananas from him. So he could sell them all before they went bad. And he stood near the railway station, where someone on the night train might come and see him, and hopefully not get scared, and be interested to buy bananas at that hour. The scene was such, and so much like the movies, that it would have scared any kid.
I had thought initially that he might be drunk. But as he said that ok, sir, I realised he wasn't. He was just a soldier who was challenging his fate. And his God...