Saturday, February 16, 2013

An Ordinary Man

In every morning
Ordinary people
Get up with absolute
And with extraordinary beliefs,
Engage themselves in their
Daily routines.
But the extraordinary ones
Without realizing their qualities
In complete ordinariness
Involve in their daily lives.

He gets up like an ordinary man
The moment he wakes up
He remembers a few familiar faces
Children, wife and God, in that order.
He proves that children and wife
Are there in the vicinity
When he sees them sleeping
Like different letters
Within a long sentence like him.

But he could not prove that
God exists till date.
However like a virahi, the separated one
He tries to imagine the face of God
In his mind.
Then without reaching anywhere
In the effort, he would get up from the bed
And would go to the bathroom.

One of his old days will pass through
The drains that lie like the veins of a city
With exploding voices and winds.
Then he would look at the mirror-
Seeing his own reflection
He would ask whether God’s face
Looks like that or not.
Then he would convince himself
That God has a woman’s face.

Thus his day would start
On a walking path, in some wild flowers
Through the songs of some birds
And with the rising of sun.

When he harks for his own footsteps
He would hear the conversations of ants
The prayers of snails as they go to a pilgrimage
The flirting of flies with flowers
And the fights of beetles around the plants.

In this universe,
Besides the noises of cars, buses
Military vehicles and flights
That threaten a silent sky
He would realize that
There are other voices too to hark upon.

As days pass by
One day some extraordinary people
Happen to see him talking to ants
And asking the snails whether
They have seen the face of God.
They ask all the people around
To isolate him as he has gone mad.

If he wanted he could have
Fought with them and reasoned
Saying that he was talking to the ants
About love, life and death
And also he could have proved
That the snails had told him
About God who looked and raced
Like a horse but devoid of a shell.
He could have said it in the name
Of a shell-less God and his kids.
But thinking that all of them were
Extraordinary people
He walked off into the noon.

When his vehicle passes through a tunnel
He burns a book and becomes light unto others
When he recognizes that the burning book
Has the face of God and his own
His station appears before him
And the doors open.
He leaves his vehicle with a smile,
An ordinary smile of an ordinary man.

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