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Lost ... In every which way
By Anuradha Gupta (1986A6)
This October in Delhi on my way to Faridabad,
Looking for directions in the dark,
I who had progressed from buses to cars with drivers at that…
We knew we were lost!
I didn’t know how badly I was too,
And learnt that at a terrible cost…
As the driver halted abruptly,
A cyclist behind us bumped the car and fell off,
He was obviously badly hurt,
In a split second-
No fighting, no threatening, just dusted away the dirt,
Just picked up his cycle and rode away-
I could have helped him, apprised him of his rights
But fear for my child and myself made me hesitate
It sure was dark-
And he didn’t wait,
He who was also somebody’s child.
My hesitation left me feeling shallow and defiled.
Anger I would have understood, I carry so much of it myself,
But…
the mute acceptance of a spirit that had died.
The driver said, “Shall we proceed”, looked through the rear view mirror,
Questioningly at the wreck who sat in the chauffeur driven car and cried.
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