The lonely
man by the roadside…..
Along the
busy and noisy street, at noon
Where the
windblown dust creates patterns
Like the
lazy strokes in an artist’s canvas-
I walk alone
–only to stop to see a shadow-so peculiar!
I glance up
to see him stride-lonely too.
From shop to
shop he moves begging-
Long arms
extended for a penny or two.
Tangled mass
of hair with dirt and face blank
Frail body
clad in clothes so torn
As if by gunshots
of life
Left ankle masked
in shreds of rags
To hide a
wound - fathomless may be!
A bundle of
cloth clutched close to chest-
Remnants of his
bygone glory-his treasure!
Children in
cars gaze at him-curious not afraid!
Parents roll
up the windows
For them a
hideous creature is on prowl!
He knocks on
windows-knuckles bruised
Then turns with
a wry smile and a distant look
But these
dreary chores make his day!
I take a
stroll again at night-
When the air
is cool and the streets empty-
My eyes
search for him-curious
Like the
children in cars!
In the
solitude of a tiled shop step he sleeps
Holding the
bundle as if he’ll never let go-
Does he ever
have dreams in those hours of oblivion!
Of his
mother, father or a lover?
To light up
his face with a smile!
A tinge of
solicitude is all he needs
But it needs
a genuine heart-in this race of life
To act so
for a fellow being!
Bound in the
shackles of ethics-ashamed I am
By the
inability-to bring down human misery!
The silence
of night becomes deafening-
By echoes of
his heartbroken cry!
Selfish I
move-for my journey has to go on!
And in the
the pages of my mind-
The lonely
man by the roadside is an indelible imprint!
