Tuesday, 8 January 2008

Pin Drop Silence...

The bustling market streets,
Where merchants yell,
Vendors sing out loud,
Calling on, loud and clear.
Prices rain, some high,
Some low, yet ever moving.

The many buyers, waiting on,
Sweating profuse, beads dropping,
Not from the scorching heat,
But the price they have to pay.
The bargains many, anticipations,
On deals pushed forth, accurate aims.

Amidst all the hustles,
I saw a figure, walk on,
Aimless stroll, wandering alone,
Bleeding sole, rugged hands,
Drugged, by the blistering heat,
Shooed away by all, he walked on.

His eyes seemed searching,
As if on a hunt, a quest, unknown,
He moved forth, beady eyes spying.
As the market spiced up, peak hours,
I saw him wait, endlessly,
And then, the night did set in, calm.

As the shutters dropped, the shops closed,
As silence hit the streets, he waited on,
And then, he screamed aloud, as if to the world,
In rags of despair, he strolled on, shrieking,
Rummaging waste bins, for traces of food,
And drinking in, the cruelty of the world, yet again.

And the world slept on, in the calm of the night,
Where beggars lose sanity, and the world loses humanity-

And a vacuous pin drop silence echoes on, and on...

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