“After every few steps, the beggar waggles his foot
As if shaking the dust out of his shoes,
Under the burning sky, the road wasn’t too good
And the narrow muddy pavement was a litter’s loot,
The beggar turned, holding aloft a stick,
Resigned fate fluttering on a withering wick;
Suddenly then, down the road came the mad man
Tumbling along like a rusty, rickety van,
Silent and speculative watched the beggar where he stood
As the mad man proceeded to uncover packets of food,
Sat down then they wolfing the food together;
Who became the mad man, and who the beggar ?
Could it be that they had long known each other ?”
sanjaykumarsinghblog 