By Praniti Bhatt
I walked by marching with the crowd
Scurrying to catch my college bus
There were many with me who walked along
But that day i failed to forge ahead
Holding a bottle in my hand and waiting for the bus to arrive i stood by the boulevard
I looked around and every person was busy with their mundane world
I opened the cap to quench my thirst but i stood static.
I looked high and i found a sky skraper
My head got fixed , time passing by and my phone throbbing
But, I could not rush to catch my bus
I got caught that day not by that building flaunting the board (Asias biggest )but to a creeper
artistically holding himself erect by the rope
The man made me aware of a harsh reality which i would have never learnt
That man kept balancing himself and holding a bottle of paint to paint the skyscraper
His clothes drop by drop being coloured painting a rainbow to his colourless life.
His hands portraying wrinkles and his face manifested the grace
His skeleton body reflecting the turmoil yet his art narrating his experience.
His white hair and torn clothes showing his plight yet he brooding his skilled ability.
Amongst the hustle bustle around me there was an unheared voice that screamed grandpa.
There was a small tiffin, flamboyant smile and a broken sleeper
The kid came and stood next to me
He kept on squealing the old man to give him that tiffin and he retorting back with a shivering
voice reflecting his rhythm of the plea.
The old man and kid sat down in that wooden bench sharing the broken seat .
The old man chewing with broken teeth and the kid chewing with his broken dream
The two shared their tiffin, rejoiced their dried chapatti and discussed their daily wages.
The grand son asked for a penny and the old man gave him his nest egg contentedly
The child left and the man climbed the tall building.
That day i met a spiderman in reality
Whose climbing the building too had a speaking mystery.
How glorious it was to look at a man whose life was was no less an irony
He was a real superhero with no sparkling history
He was the hero who had an art to beautify the building but not holding any degree
He was the superhero who had so many chaos in reality but not a single stain of turbulence in his
creativity
He was the man who had a flair to discard all his fears of falling down but not a single chance to
dream high in reality
He was one superhero i met that day in reality
Who showed me a real reflection of life without narrating his narrative.
Everyday walking by we just rush to conquer some uncertanities
Why dont we just stop and feel the actuality
That day it was not just my thirst that quenched
It was even my soul that was moistened looking at an orginator
And his painted life which was just distinguiI walked by marching with the crowd
Scurrying to catch my college bus
There were many with me who walked along
But that day i failed to forge ahead
Holding a bottle in my hand and waiting for the bus to arrive i stood by the boulevard
I looked around and every person was busy with their mundane world
I opened the cap to quench my thirst but i stood static.
I looked high and i found a sky skraper
My head got fixed , time passing by and my phone throbbing
But, I could not rush to catch my bus
I got caught that day not by that building flaunting the board (Asias biggest )but to a creeper
artistically holding himself erect by the rope
The man made me aware of a harsh reality which i would have never learnt
That man kept balancing himself and holding a bottle of paint to paint the skyscraper
His clothes drop by drop being coloured painting a rainbow to his colourless life.
His hands portraying wrinkles and his face manifested the grace
His skeleton body reflecting the turmoil yet his art narrating his experience.
His white hair and torn clothes showing his plight yet he brooding his skilled ability.
Amongst the hustle bustle around me there was an unheared voice that screamed grandpa.
There was a small tiffin, flamboyant smile and a broken sleeper
The kid came and stood next to me
He kept on squealing the old man to give him that tiffin and he retorting back with a shivering
voice reflecting his rhythm of the plea.
The old man and kid sat down in that wooden bench sharing the broken seat .
The old man chewing with broken teeth and the kid chewing with his broken dream
The two shared their tiffin, rejoiced their dried chapatti and discussed their daily wages.
The grand son asked for a penny and the old man gave him his nest egg contentedly
The child left and the man climbed the tall building.
That day i met a spiderman in reality
Whose climbing the building too had a speaking mystery.
How glorious it was to look at a man whose life was was no less an irony
He was a real superhero with no sparkling history
He was the hero who had an art to beautify the building but not holding any degree
He was the superhero who had so many chaos in reality but not a single stain of turbulence in his
creativity
He was the man who had a flair to discard all his fears of falling down but not a single chance to
dream high in reality
He was one superhero i met that day in reality
Who showed me a real reflection of life without narrating his narrative.
Everyday walking by we just rush to conquer some uncertanities
Why dont we just stop and feel the actuality
That day it was not just my thirst that quenched
It was even my soul that was moistened looking at an orginator
And his painted life which was just distinguished from his reality.