A Vista

Taking pride in the knowledge

That I have accumulated,

I stand over the roof.

I look right, I look left.

My visions stretch over the thatched roofs,

Where people look so menial,

Diminutive and of lesser beings.

Lying out-stretched on

The ground and covered in the dust.

Their finger nails soiled in hard-labour

And every breath is breathed for survival.

A dog sleeps next to the man,

There is no shame.

They breathe the same air,

Walk on the same land

And they are under the same sky.

They both worry

For two meals a day.

They are kicked out like garbage

Or pitied by a passer-by.

Charity buys them luck

And sometimes sympathy.

A man in born naked,

He is still naked.

Naked of joys and pleasures,

Laughters and merriments.

He is filled with grieves and sorrows.

He is clothed with struggle and dust.

I see a child not more than fifteen,

Pushing the loaded cart,

Enduring his body to feed his family.

I see an infant unattended,

Left on the floor, wailing.

I see an old lady on the road,

Stretching out her alms and singing boons

To all who throws a penny at her.

I stand on the roof

And observe, and anticipate,

And visualize, and introspect,

And witness, and survey,

And imagine, and watch,

And watch and just watch

And taking pride in the knowledge

That I have accumulated.