The other Half

Deep within my heart of hearts
There is a desire to reset
reset things, reset the world
reset present, reset the life

As I warm the plush seat
and look at the rear view mirror
life looks a bit ethereal
seems a bit orchestrated

I agree with myself, there have been struggles
Sacrifices have been galore
but rewards have been disproportionate too
yes, life looks a bit ethereal

I am not rich, but I have earned
more than what a teen imagined in 90s
on that lonely road as I was walking
thinking will I ever succeed

As I read, heard, listened to the rich
I wondered will I ever be rich
what is it like to own a Mercedes.
what is it like to travel the world.

Even though desires were always limited
Aspirations were always sky high
desires have long been met
aspirations are hitting their milestones

Life looks a smooth sail
The mast holding the sail steady
The world seems to be perfect
tailor made just the way it should be

And then I see the stretched hand
with the expectations in the eyes
an unsteady gait and shaky hands
tear filled eyes sorrow written all over

I turn down the request
this is not the first time
I see many of you... every day
I am hard. Your plight does not move me.

But off-late I have changed. I notice.
Some of you are old, supported by a boy or a girl
Some limbless, deformed yet alive...
Some are ladies with dangling toddlers that are mostly asleep

Some of you have chosen this as life
Some of you have been forced into this life
I empathize the latter
I empathize the old who have no hope
I empathize the young who have misplaced hope

you are a thief, kidnapper or a burglar
you are not entirely at fault
we flaunted and teased you with the color of money
but we never showed you the way to color yourself

I saw you from the window of the bus
in your twenties happily taking a bath by the side of road
except that the water was flowing from the gutter
This may be your life. Not the one I want you to live

I overhear you in the red bus as I sit next to you
You are a carpenter, a plumber, a mason, a commoner
A hundred means so much to you
You indeed know the value of the hundred.

I watch your grieving family, a picture of yours by their side
I am filled with sorrow and a deep sense of helplessness
You meant a world to the people you left back
and the value of your life was what a fifty thousand !

We may be poles apart, culturally, mentally, emotionally
And we are miles apart, financially
I longed for it when i was twenty five, to be different
Now, I wonder, why did I ever want to be different

But I know for sure that our paths will cross
and your stretched hand will find my firm hand
We were never meant to be this different
We were never meant to be poles apart

Hear The Poem Recited By Me