Musings of a Blind Man

Can I walk the roads alone ? Why am I this scared ? Do I fear torture Or pain ? What if I fall down ? What am I doing now ? Is it better to live alone Walk alone Aware that peril beckons When you walk alone on the road Braced for it.. and careful enough ? Or seek help from the company Ok…let me travel a bit To a country with nice, friendly people They all take so much care… But when it comes to helping me cross the Road… why aren’t they helping me ? Oh… I’m not the only blind man here… They can’t see me…. Oh… What do I do now ? Ah…let me go to my own land And seek help They are not blind They’ll see me And help me So, I go… On my way I have a dream… I walk the road People willingly hold my hand Walk me down the road I tell myself happily… “why didn’t I come here earlier ?” Half way down the road Heavy traffic And the effluvium Suffocating me Suffocating my helper too He runs away I wonder He probably is getting Too affected by the fumes…. Or… doesn’t he like my hand ? My perfume ? My smell ? … What did I do ? … I hear a kingsized motorbike… “hello there.. how are you doing ?” “you know that if you are found on the middle of the road, you shall die” I splutter… “but..i am blind…” “Blind…and you crossed half the distance…who are you kidding ?” “Where’s my gun ?…” S I L E N C E I thought I was just blind Now I couldn’t hear anything I couldn’t smell anything Not even my favourite perfume The one that I was wearing that day Hey… I couldn’t think… How wonderful my friends would say… The blind guys’ uninformed talk… But somewhere in that deep sleep, I realized that my dream was reality… For neither can I see a dream nor reality… Everything is… Blind men realize it half the way down… And pay a heavy price…