Talking To Myself

Kaleidoscope

Yesterday a good friend of recent acquaintance –  a retired senior executive from corporate sector, erudite,  penning short stories on amazingly various themes and in profusion – called from US. They, he and his wife, were having a discussion on “Would you experience a feeling at all if there was no word for it in your language?” This was part of a larger theory that language is a trap to thinking, precluding a lot of untrodden paths just because there are no words to describe.  Just like the allegation against search engines.

Felt honored and nervous at being drawn into the discussion. My reading is limited to PGW and Vyasar Virundhu, nothing more sophisticated. Far from anything in linguistics, philosophy, etc.

Nevertheless, I have this propensity for not reading the signs, treading where others wisely back off!! (I don’t drive!)

It was refreshing to contemplate on something more than the…

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Kaleidoscope

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Happy And Sad

Was on my morning walk around the park.

Taking in the world up, yawning and cracking its knuckles.

The scene carried from yesterday, the day before…

failing miserably to get me down.

All the same, breaths laboured, carefully counting,

for the toil to finish.

Saw him a few feet ahead crossing the road

and coming my way.

A small withered body on a pair of purposeful legs.

A rag picker, clutching an out-sized sack thrown over his shoulders.

Heads down on the sidewalk,

not eying for more, content with the bounty.

The early bird had got the worms.

I took out from my pocket

a couple of tenners kept handy.

What ever happened to those twenties in orange?

When he came alongside, stride not broken,

lost in thoughts,

it was ditto with thoughts too…in other minds.

I gently tapped on his bony shoulders.

A couple of fogged but alert eyes looked up

from under bushy brows.

Concerned and it was not the constabulary…

Wordlessly I shoved the notes, worn but good

into his knobbly hand

that had not lifted up a wee bit.

I walked away suffused with goodness.

Happy moments. Why, verry…

Looking at and back was distasteful, I thought.

A few paces ahead, heard someone sobbing.

Looked around and found none.

Finally, I could figure out.

Confined in my pocket,

it was the fifty…for losing out

to its mates, mere tenners.

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