Half a year I couldn’t talk to you…
I dread a conversation now that I can.
I got no answer for how I am
Or have been all this while.
I am reduced to be a memory
No one knows I still exist
I have no words anymore
I falter at your questions
Grope around to find words
But all is dark and I find none
I run away!
I was recently travelling back home when an elderly person boarded the vehicle and started talking about his personal miseries, ill health and how he is a father to some 2 ladies. He also mentioned his dearth of monetary resources.
While asking for help, he held out his cap in his hand. A cap. Which is often seen as a symbol of respect and dignity.
What must have befallen this person to openly talk about his misery, ask for alms and even hold out his respect to others? Even knowing the fact that they may as well disrespect the dignity he is putting forth. What must have befallen him to not think about running into an acquaintance or someone recognizing him? Or the cold he must have felt while uncovering and displaying his injuries.
What could it be? What kind of misery? What sorrow? Test?