10 May 2004

The Vision

Posted by Pye in Poetry | 2:22pm

Matted hair to yellowed teeth
The usual vision is everpresent
Most people fail to notice
until brown,calloused hand
spreads before faces,
under their noses,
before their eyes
Daring, mocking -- ignore some more!

Casual disregard for the traffic lights
He weaves into the stopped cars
Looking keenly at the sahibs
And gently tittering mem-sahibs
grown suddenly quiet.
Avoiding his eyes.

He lingers for a moment
Passing to the next hardened heart
until the light turns green
The metal river moves around him
Parting for the staff of Moses
A sea of hurrying, uncaring, selfish,
ashamed humanity.

There is this beggar standing at the traffic signal in Nampally, opposite Moorty and Sons, the famous photographers' studio. I've seen him since I was a little girl. He hasn't changed. He looks pretty formidable. Dirty white hair... but voluminous, shoulder length - framing his face. Deep set eyes and broad shoulders, strong build. He has a black shawl wrapped around his shoulders and a stout stick in his hand. I don't remember if they were there when I was younger or are a recent addition. He's got this quiet dignity about him. He doesn't hound you as most beggars do. A slight, negative shake of the head moves him and his accusing eyes on, to the next person. The whole image is pretty forceful and I've been in awe of him for a long time.

Yesterday as I stopped at the lights, I saw him and actually noticed him. A thought ran through my mind - If he had been born a few centuries ago, he could have been mistaken for a prophet.

Current Music: None

10 May 2004

A Beginning

Posted by Pye in Poetry | 7:57am

The first entry in my blog. I feel like it's a momentous occassion. It should be something worthwhile. Since this blog is more or less meant to be a collection of my thoughts, let me start with what was on my mind last night. A poem, as it was written, unedited.

Limping along on the crutch of humour
Cloaks of sarcasm wrapped around
Moving behind a facade of wit
Sharp repartee close at hand

Who is this?
Which facet is true?
A merging of different personas;
Or broken pieces; dysfunctional?

Deceiving myself, or the world?
The answers shimmer, just out of reach.
Stumbling through the images I've built
I wonder if I'm lost to me.

Thoughts: Sometimes I have this feeling that I am standing outside myself and looking inside, detached, objective. Do I like what I see? Do I see my true self? If I am supposed to be me, in touch with myself, then how come I'm standing out there?

So this blog is now off to a start. Appropriately I hope, as a glimpse into my self.

Current Mood: Thoughtful
Current Music: Silence