Poem in the Auto

As I sat in the open air rickshaw,
my hair,
an uncontrollable mess.

I struggled to tame the Medusa tenticles that fluttered with the rampaging breeze.

Caged in my world of self-occupancy,
boredom of static traffic - my eyes wander.
I looked out at the auto beside me,
I see a hand clutch another begging bowl hand,
pursuing the occupant for some coinage.

I knew I would be next in their relentless quest,
I gathered my strength,
stand my ground,
I had NO CHANGE TO SPARE.

They haunted my rickshaw now,
A retarded gimp, with his colleague in crime by his side.

Begging for money, pleading with his voice,
Calling me his 'Didi'.

I concentrated my gaze away from them,
Blankly staring at my handbag.
Temptation rid my soul as I looked up at that impish man.

His eyes were closed yet as I looked up,
He opened his innocent eyes.
My emotion caved in as my glance moved down.
Those eyes,
Those eyes rid with sadness,
hardship straining innocence,
His eyes plagued me.
My eyes welled with pity.
How dare he bare his soul to me with those eyes.

They passed me by,
but
my thoughts were erratic and sensitive.
Why do they plead so desperately for our loose change and sympathy?

They rid us with guilt.