Tuesday, July 14, 2009

43. The boy at the junction

Sitting in my AC car with windows rolled up
I see him coming closer with big strides,
Desperate to sell the stuff he carries -
Books, magazines, flowers, incense sticks...

He keeps thumping at the window
Sometimes pleading, sometimes abusing,
I see him, but pretend not to see him
I hear him, but pretend, I am deaf.

I pray for my indifference to work
I wait for his patience to wear out
I keep looking at the traffic light
Hoping for it to quickly turn green.

He gives up finally, runs to another car
Where he meets another one - blind and deaf,
I never see him selling his stuff
I wonder, why he keeps coming to the junction.

7 comments:

Aparna said...

I too have met similar boys selling various stuff. Sometimes I ignore them, sometimes I end up buying from him...feeling this is better than begging at least.
It is amazing that you come up with such lines on issues that are so relevant.

Indrani said...

Very touching!
You penned your feelings so well.

lala said...

yes. we all try to steal our glances away from such boys... and sometimes i really wonder how they make a living... well, but it is definitely better than begging.

exposemaximum said...

Pathetic to see them in junctions.

Babli said...

I appreciate for the lovely and touching poem written by you.

How Do said...

oh because he DOES end up selling his stuff.. thats why.

Saadia said...

Agreed, How-Do.

I try and ignore beggars because they have turned into both a mafia and a menace.

With street vendors, its more a matter of me wanting to buy something and having the time at traffic signals.

But there is melancholy in the whole scenario, the way you see it from "their" eyes. So true.