THE UNFORTUNATES

I saw him and I saw ecstasy,

It was neither a ball nor a balloon,

But his vision of a beautiful world he dreamt,

He hopped against the dancing breeze,

And played with an imaginary sword,

And I wondered “who are the real unfortunates”?

I saw him as I crossed the bridge,

And he waved with all consummate happiness,

I waved back but failed to par,

He neighed and stabbed me with his imaginary sword,

I fell down like a lost warrior,

I wondered …“who are the real unfortunates”?

I was no way better than a goosy creature,

He saw me fall and laughed like a demented celebrity,

I presented him a ten rupee note; He grinned and ran to his tent,

With all the fervor he offered me an envelope,

I opened them with a little circumspection,

I observed…..and I cried!

It was a beautifully crafted airplane

with all the vigor and elegance.

He was no better than a slum kid,

But he had a lovely world in his eyes,

He hopped again and stabbed me with his imaginary sword,

I fell down but this time without wondering….”who the real unfortunates are”?

-Manoj Kelath