A trivial cause for anger

The man was standing near the window of a car three cars away in front. He was trying to sell cheap toys to a child inside the car. The red light halt at this large traffic point will take a few minutes more to turn green. The object of attraction was a colorful disk—must be part of a cheap toy which the man was trying to sell. The colors lured the child inside the car. A dialogue was going on between the toy-seller standing under the harsh sun and the inmates of the car. All around him were cars of various shapes and sizes impatiently waiting for the light to turn green.

He didn't belong there just as a slum doesn't have any right to be near a modern apartment building.

I was happy to see the toy passed inside the car. Now is the payment time, the deal will be closed and the man will have the chance to move away from the unnatural company of cars all around him. My gaze had drifted away for a moment. The light had turned green. Cars in the first row started moving.

The wave of movement will move backwards and the still sea of cars will become a smoothly moving sheet of cars. The car beside the man started moving, the man still standing, I expected him to move away to safety, but noooo…what do I see! My friend beside me was explaining…the toy changed course and was returned back to the seller. I could see the sweat glistening on his face mixed with deep disappointment and dejection. The moving cars now carefully avoided him and surged forward. The lonely man with slightly stooped shoulders walked across towards the footpath.

I felt a tinge of anger. An object once gifted must not be taken back. Something nearly bought must not be returned at the next instant. It violated some principles somewhere....

Coming up to this point was easy for me, but now I am stuck with the little word 'nearly'. I cannot get over it so easily. Do I not have my rights to go out of a large shop after inspecting a few apparently attractive objects but not buying anything? I suppose, I have the rights. But then why do I feel my irritation at the rejection on the streets?

It is all about context I suppose.

It is about personal pain and loss; that reached me across the unreachable gulf between us. And by some trick of my mind I saw myself standing on the road, sweating and alone, in place of the man.