Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Vagabond (Free Verse)

A vagabond roams the world
a penniless, friendless, illiterate bottom-feeder
who makes not a penny's difference to another soul
He knows only what he sees, and knowingly moves on
like the slow wind through the trees.

He makes his way through the sub-urban and rural ant-farm
watching the people merrily go through their lives
Working for those they love
not a worry in the world.
Envious, he looks through their windows
and sees the world through their eyes.
He sees the down-trodden, controlled house-wife
scared of the man she must spend the rest of her life with.
Scared of her partner, of her own future.
He sees the lonely, tired single mother
longing for someone to give her a shoulder to cry on
arms to fall back on
However brash, however harsh.
He sees the orthodox religious.
Prisoners of their own faith, victims of their own belief.
Bound to believe what they have been taught
left with no room for free thought.
He sees also the blindly atheist,
rebels without a cause
Faithless, just for the sake of being different
while blindly following the smaller crowd.
Knowingly, he moves on
En route to civilized society,
he ponders over his experience
and feels , strangely, happy, content
In the Urban jungle,
he is spellbound,
No one seems to get tired
no one gets bored
always having something to do, somewhere to go.
People talking of modern subjects, earning to feed their wants
not just needs.
Envious, he stares through their keyholes
and sees the world through their eyes.
He sees the rich, flamboyant gaffer
Not a material luxury missing
But a lack of love, that has been replaced with respect
Respect with fills one's ego
but not one's heart
He sees the middle class prole,
A man who earns to feed four mouths,
but never seems to be content
A man bereft of any excitement, any luxuries
a man up to his nose in debt,
and down on his knees to beg.
He sees the youth, the future
the new generation, the fresh blood
and sees a generation which doesn't care
and goes nowhere beyond slogans and shouting
the ones with the energy, the resources but not the incentive.
He sees the tragic lovers,
tired of betrayal , victims of their mistakes
but with a secret love for depression,
with a desire to be sad, to be disappointed
Knowingly, the vagabond moves on
overcome, strangely, not by happiness about being sane
not by pride in being different from them,
but by disappointment, in his fellow man
in his brother.
And the roamed the vagabond,
the penniless, friendless, illiterate bottom feeder
the most content man in the world.

1 comment:

  1. amazing ananya....seriously...
    simply amazingly...
    i knew u write well...but this well...i could not imagine...