The Man in Rags

Strange. Just one word came to my mind when I saw, what I saw. I saw a mad-man in rags, near a bus stop.

I did not feel pity for that man. Rather, I was curious. Curious, to know what must be going inside him while he chatted with the lamp-post? What did he feel when he threw random abuses at the passers-by. I wonder if he saw things which the normal people didn't. If he is actually talking to someone or something. Or, is it just his imagination?

I want to know how it feels like, to be what he was. So busy chatting and having a life with particularly NOBODY!

There were people around him. He did not point or even looked at anybody. He went on discussing something with the "lamp-post" and explained it few things using gestures. He pointed at few things in between; nothing in particular I could find. I was amazed at how the world around him, the people, the vehicles passing by, didn't bother his conversation. How, he didn't mind kids staring and giggling and throwing stones at him. He noticed nothing except the "lamp-post". I wonder what the conversation was all about.

While the bus moved through the signal, I kept thinking.

I wonder what must have happened in his life, which made him what he is. Which incident turned him into a person, who is laughed at, pitied and is so alone. Does he even remember who he was? His name? I wonder what are his thoughts are when he wakes up in the morning. Does he try to recall his life? Or, everyday, every morning starts with the same emptiness? The sense of nothingness.

So many questions in mind. None answered.



  2. I once wrote a piece called Vagabond In A Fedora ( I think it might answer your questions in this post, to some extent. Let me know :)


Post a Comment

Popular Posts