Musings of a Blind Man.

Can I walk the roads alone ?
Why am I this scared ?

Do I fear torture
Or pain ?
What if I fall down ?

What am I doing now ?

Is it better to live alone
Walk alone
Aware that peril beckons
When you walk alone on the road
Braced for it.. and careful enough ?

Or seek help from the company
Ok…let me travel a bit
To a country with nice, friendly people
They all take so much care…
But when it comes to helping me cross the
Road… why aren’t they helping me ?

Oh… I’m not the only blind man here…
They can’t see me….
Oh…

What do I do now ?
Ah…let me go to my own land
And seek help
They are not blind
They’ll see me
And help me

So, I go…

On my way
I have a dream…

I walk the road
People willingly hold my hand
Walk me down the road
I tell myself happily… “why didn’t I come here earlier ?”

Half way down the road
Heavy traffic
And the effluvium
Suffocating me
Suffocating my helper too
He runs away

I wonder
He probably is getting
Too affected by the fumes….
Or… doesn’t he like my hand ?
My perfume ?
My smell ? …
What did I do ? …

I hear a kingsized motorbike…
“hello there.. how are you doing ?”
“you know that if you are found on the
middle of the road, you shall die”
I splutter… “but..i am blind…”

“Blind…and you crossed half
the distance…who are you kidding ?”
“Where’s my gun ?…”

S I L E N C E

I thought I was just blind
Now I couldn’t hear anything
I couldn’t smell anything
Not even my favourite perfume
The one that I was wearing that day
Hey… I couldn’t think…
How wonderful my friends would say…
The blind guys’ uninformed talk…

But somewhere in that deep sleep, I realized that my dream was reality…
For neither can I see a dream nor reality…
Everything is…
Blind men realize it half the way down…
And pay a heavy price…